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f 


ANDELE 


OR 


t 


The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive,. 


A Story  of  Real  Life  Among;  the  Indians, 

BY 

REV.  J.  J.  METHVIN, 

Superintendent  in  Methvin  Institute, 

Anadarko,  O.  T. 


(Second  Edition. 


I 899: 

Pentecostal  Herald  Press, 
Louisville,  Ky. 


Copyrighted  1899. 
By 

J.  J.  Methvin. 


9 7 0 c 2 


PREFACE. 

This  is  a volume  of  simple  narrative  without  any  effort 
-at  literary  skill.  It  is  not  fiction,  but  truth;  and  truth  is 
stranger  than  fiction.  In  connection  with  this  story  of 
the  life  of  “Andele”  among  the  Kiowas,  much  of  the  hab- 
its, customs,  and  superstitions  of  the  Indians  is  given; 
and,  indeed,  no  incident  is  related  that  does  not  set  forth 
some  phase  of  Indian  life  in  its  real  light.  When  histor- 
ical events  are  given  there  may  be  some  discrepancy  as  to 
exact  dates,  but  the  actual  events  themselves  are  as 
related.  The  condition  of  things,  as  exhibited  in  this 
little  volume,  is  fast  passing  away;  indeed,  many  changes 
have  already  taken  place,  and  the  Indians  are  taking  on 
gradually,  but  surely,  a real  and  permanent  civilization. 
Years  of  association  with  the  Indian  has  increased  my 
hopefulness  for  him.  His  salvation  and  his  development 
into  a permanent  and  substantial  civilization  are  as 
bright  as  the  promises  of  God.  This  is  being  demon- 
strated all  the  while,  as  the  work  of  the  church  and  the 
government  goes  on  with  them. 

To  start  with,  there  never  was  a people,  perhaps,  in 
whom  there  was  so  little  upon  which  to  base  a hope  of 
building  a civilization.  No  homes  or  home  life,  no  enter- 
prise, no  written  language;  but  wild,  nomadic,  barbarous, 
savage,  their  glory  the  glory  of  war  and  plunder,  their 

religion  that  of  bloody  revenge,  the  conscience  and 

8 


4 


Preface. 


moral  instinct  dead.  But  among  the  wild  tribes,  as  well 
as  the  civilized,  the  gospel  proves  the  power  of  God 
unto  salvation  to  every  one  that  believeth.  There  is 
a wonderful  chapter  to  be  written  in  this  respect,  but 
what  God  has  wrought  among  them  will  be  told  in  a sepa- 
rate volume  later  on. 

The  author  sends  forth  this  true  story  of  Andele’s  life 
with  the  hope  that  the  young  people  of  the  church  to 
whom  it  is  affectionately  dedicated  may  find  both  pleasure 
and  profit  in  reading  it.  J.  J.  M. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I. 

The  Martinez  Family 9 

CHAPTER  II. 

The  Mescaleros  Capture  Andres  and  Pedro.  ...  11 

CHAPTER  III. 

A Vain  Pursuit  17 

CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Flight.  Little  Pedro's  Death 20 

CHAPTER  V. 


Andres’  Sufferings.  Resolves  to  Die.  En- 
gages in  a Deadly  Conflict  with  the  Apa- 


che Boys.  Is  Rescued  by  the  Kiowas  30 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Sold  to  the  Kiowas.  Becomes  the  Adopted  Son 

of  the  Chief,  Heap  O'  Bears 45 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Kiowas  Reach  Home.  The  Big  Medicine  Dance.  . 53 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  Quo-dle-quoit.  Andres  has  a Fight.  The 

Scalp  Dance 69 

5 


6 


Contents. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Heap  O’  Bears  Scalped  by  the  Utes.  Somtotleti 

DIES  WITH  HIM 77 

CHAPTER  X. 

Mourning  for  Heap  O'  Bears.  Horrible  Sight.  . 84 

CHAPTER  XI. 

War  with  the  U.  S.  Soldiers.  Cheyennes  Sur- 
prised in  a Scalp  Dance 87 

CHAPTER  XII. 

Scalping  the  Utes.  A Grim  Joke 92 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Foot  Fight.  The  Indian  Worship.  The  “Sweat 

Booth”  Again.  The  Buffalo  Medicine  Man.  98 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Marauding  Expedition  into  Texas.  Fight  on 

the  Washita 109 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Tahan,  the  Captive  Texan 118 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

Indian  Census  by  Capt.  R.  H.  Pratt 129 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

Startling  Incidents,  Rescue  of  Captives 132 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Andele  Disgusted  with  the  Indian  Medicine  and 

Medicine  Men 146 


Contents.  7 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

Andele  Marries.  Has  Trouble 152 

CHAPTER  XX. 

“Dog  Soldiers'’ 165 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

Light  Dawning 169 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

Goes  Home  to  New  Mexico.  Returns  after  four 
Years.  Converted.  Joins  the  Methodist 
Church.  God's  Providence  in  it  all 176 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

A Civilized  Courtship  and  Christian  Marriage.  182 


CHAPTER  I. 


The  Martinez  Family. 

Jaun  Martinez  was  born  in  June,  1807.  He  was  of 
pure  Castilian  blood.  In  1773  bis  father,  when  yet 
quite  a boy,  had  come  with  his  parents  from  Old 
Mexico  and  settled  in  the  United  States,  near  Las 
Vegas,  in  New  Mexico.  At  the  age  of  thirty-four  he 
fell  in  love  with  a beautiful  jmung  lady,  a Bastago, 
herself  also  of  pure  Castilian  blood,  Senorita  Paulita 
Padillo,  and  married  her  in  1841.  It  was  a happy 
union,  and,  from  the  first,  prosperity  smiled  upon 
them . 

They  settled  soon  after  at  Los  Alemos,  but  after 
a few  years  removed  to  near  San  Geronimo,  twelve 
miles  west  of  Las  Vegas,  a place  lying  between  Ge- 
ronimo and  Hot  Springs,  in  a vicinity  where,  as  yet, 
no  one  else  had  settled.  Here  were  born  to  them  four 
sons:  \Tictorino,  Dionicio,  Regordio,  and  Andres,  and 
three  daughters,  Francisca,  Sabina,  and  Marcilina. 
With  this  interesting  household  of  seven  children  the 
Martinez  family  became  one  of  influence  and  power 
as  population  increased  and  the  country  developed. 


io  Anclele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

Andres  was  the  youngest  son,  and  perhaps,  physic- 
ally, the  weakest  in  the  household,  but  of  quick  wit 
and  acute  mental  perception.  Living  on  the  frontier, 
exposed  to  the  frequent  marauding,  plundering  expedi- 
tions of  the  various  tribes  of  wild  Indians  wandering 
over  the  country,  they  grew  up  inured  to  dangers  and 
equipped  for  emergencies.  People  by  necessity  be- 
come quick  witted  and  skilled  in  the  midst  of  the 
trying  emergencies  that  come  up  in  a frontier  life. 
Many  a latent  power  and  sleeping  faculty  have  been 
stirred  to  life  and  called  into  action  in  the  face  of  a 
great  danger  or  extreme  emergency,  that,  in  luxury 
and  ease,  would  have  slept  on  forever  undeveloped. 
Trials,  conflicts,  emergencies,  are  necessary  to  arouse 
and  develop  the  latent  faculties  of  our  being,  hence 
we  should  count  it  all  joy  when  they  come. 

Often  had  the  Martinez  family  to  guard  themselves 
against  the  stealthy  attacks  of  the  wild  Mescaleros  and 
other  marauding  tribes,  and  at  the  time  this  history 
begins  (1866),  there  were  rumors  that  the  Apaches  were 
prowling  about  in  the  vicinity,  but  as  such  rumors 
had  been  constantly  circulated  during  the  past  month , 
the  community  had  grown  careless  and  no  watch  kept 
up.  Evil  be  the  day  when  a man  ceases  to  watch. 


CHAPTER  II. 


The  Mescaleros  Capture  Andres. 

It  was  a bright,  beautiful  morning,  October  6,  1866. 
The  Martinez  family  were  astir  early,  for  wheat  thresh- 
ing was  on  hand  for  the  day,  and  everyone  who  could  be 
of  service  must  be  called  into  requisition. 

“Andres,”  called  Jaun  Martinez,  “my  little  boy,  you 
must  herd  the  cows  to-day,  for  I shall  need  Regordio  to 
aid  in  the  wheat  threshing.  Drive  the  cows  out  to  the 
range  and  keep  good  watch  over  them,  and  about  noon 
I will  come  to  you  and  bring  }rou  some  dinner.  Be  a 
good  boy.  Adios."  Just  at  this  moment  little  Pedro,. 
Sabina’s  son,  set  up  a plea  to  go  with  Andres,  but, 
being  refused,  he  watched  his  opportunity,  ran  away, 
and  joined  him  on  the  way. 

Poor  little  fellow!  he  little  dreamed  what  this  act 

of  disobedience  would  bring  him.  He  little  thought 

that  he  was  turning  his  back  on  his  home  forever; 

that  the  music  of  mother’s  voice  and  the  light  of  her 

loving  smiles  would  never  more  gladden  his  little 

heart;  that  his  own  life  would  be  put  out  as  a candle 

by  cruel  hands,  and  his  own  little  body,  pierced  and 

11 


12 


Andele , or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

bleeding,  would  be  left  out  on  the  broad  prairie  alone 
among  the  sage  weeds  and  grass  to  feed  the  coyotes 
and  the  wolves. 

’Tis  so  often  thus,  in  the  prospect  of  present  enjoy- 
ment, the  happy  youth  loses  sight  of  disobedience’s 
dire  results,  till  destruction  comes  and  despair  like 
night  settles  down  forever. 

“We  will  drive  the  cows  into  yonder  little  vega, 
Pedro,’’  said  Andres,  “for  there  the  grazing  is  good, 
there  is  no  timber  to  hide  them,  and  we  can  watch 
them  better  as  we  play  there  in  the  edge  of  the  tim- 
ber.” 

“All  right,”  said  Pedro,  and  they  turned  the  cows 
in  that  direction.  Soon  the  herd  was  comfortably 
grazing  with  heads  toward  the  southwest,  and  the 
boys,  as  they  watched,  were  plajdng  in  a cluster  of 
low  oaks  at  the  edge  of  the  valley. 

The  morning  fast  passed.  One  hour  had  gone  and 
then  another.  “Look,”  said  Andres,  “the  cows  seem 
to  be  uneasy  and  are  heading  for  home.  Let  us  run 
around  them  and  turn  them  back.”  With  some  diffi- 
culty having  accomplished  this,  they  resumed  their  play 
in  the  oak  thicket,  gathering  together  and  arranging 
in  groups  to  represent  herds,  the  white  stones  that  lay 
scattered  here  and  there  upon  the  ground,  and  naming 


An  dele,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive.  13 

individual  stones  for  the  familiar  old  milk  cows  in  the 
herd  they  were  watching.  Suddenly  the  sound  of 
voices  arrested  their  attention. 

“Father  is  coming,”  said  Andres,  “for  he  said  he 
would  come  out  about  noon  to  see  me  and  bring  me 
some  dinner.  It  is  rather  early,  but  I am  getting  hun- 
gry anyhow,  and” — but  looking  up,  the  little  boys 
were  filled  with  dismay  to  discover,  about  fifty  paces 
away,  coming  directly  toward  them,  a band  of  wild 
Mesealero  Apaches,  with  painted  faces,  and  shields,  and 
bows  and  arrows.  Some  of  them  were  riding  burros 
belonging  to  Andres’  father,  which  they  had  doubtless 
stolen  from  the  farm  the  night  before. 

But  their  attention,  before  discovering  the  boys, 
who  had  now  crouched  down  amid  the  bushes,  was 
directed  to  a Mexican  man,  who  was  traveling  the 
road  which  passed  through  the  edge  of  the  little  valley 
towards  San  Geronimo.  The  Mexican  had  two  burros, 
loaded  with  flour,  which  he  was  driving  along  before 
him. 

“Lie  down,  Pedro,”  said  Andres,  “keep  still, 
they  see  the  Mexican  yonder  and  are  started  in 
pursuit,  and  when  they  are  fully  passed,  if  they 
do  not  discover  us,  we  will  run  for  yonder  timber 
and  make  our  escape  for  home.  Keep  still,  Pedro,” 


14  Andele,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive. 

continued  Andres,,  “keep  still,  your  life  depends  upon 
it.  If  you  make  a noise,  they  will  find  us  out  and  we 
are  lost.  It  may  be  they  will  not  see  us.  Keep  still.” 

As  the  savage  band  passed  on,  their  interest  fully 
set  on  the  Mexican,  and  the  boys  were  just  in  the  act 
of  slipping  down  through  the  low  bushes  that  lined 
the  valley  to  the  timber  beyond,  they  were  discovered 
by  two  Apaches,  who,  for  some  reason,  had  wandered 
from  the  main  band,  and  who  now  ran  upon  the  boys 
with  a wild  shout  of  delight.  Rejoicing  at  the  pros- 
pect of  becoming  chiefs,  each  singled  out  his  boy,  ran 
upon  him,  struck  him  with  his  spear  and  then  claimed 
him  as  a captive.  This  is  a custom  among  the  In- 
dians, that  whosoever  first  strikes  a captive,  or  kills 
and  scalps  an  enemy,  becomes  a hero,  and  great  honor 
is  done  him  on  his  return  home,  and  he  is  ever  after 
considered  a great  chief.  His  word  commands  atten- 
tion, his  wishes  must  be  respected.  It  matters  not 
whether  he  kills  a man  or  captures  a babe,  he  secures 
a title  to  chief  hood. 

It  may  be  stated  here  that  it  is  not  often  that 
Indians  kill  little  children,  if  they  can  carry  them 
off,  and  it  is  a marvelous  fact  that,  notwithstand- 
ing their  fearful  savage  natures,  they  often  show 
the  tenderest  affection  for  children.  But  it  seems 


Andele,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive.  15 

that  the  Mescaleros  are  among  the  most  abandoned 
and  cruel,  and  the  two  who  had  captured  the  boys 
hurried  them  along,  calling  out  in  mock  tenderness, 
“Come  on,  come  on,  little  boys,  we  will  take  you 
to  see  your  mother,  you  must  go  to  see  your  mother, 
she  is  crying  for  you  now,”  until  they  reached  the 
band  who  had  gathered  around  the  Mexican  and  his 
burros.  They  had  cut  the  flour  sacks  open  and  scat- 
tered the  flour  to  the  prairie  winds,  and  stripped  the 
Mexican  of  every  rag  of  clothing,  till  he  stood  there 
naked  and  trembling,  his  yellow  skin  glistening  in  the 
sunlight  of  that  October  morning,  a pitiable  sight. 

The  two  boys  and  the  naked  Mexican  were  placed 
in  the  circle  of  howling  Apaches  and  hurried  along 
on  foot,  followed  by  a part  of  the  band  on  foot,  while 
some  rode  the  burros  and  made  sport  as  they  pierced 
them  with  the  points  of  their  spears  and  shouted  in 
triumph  their  victory  over  the  three  Mexicans. 

Arriving,  after  a half  mile  travel,  upon  the  banks 
of  a little  stream,  lined  on  either  side  with  a dark,  heavy 
growth  of  timber,  the  band  halted.  A short  consul- 
tation was  held,  but  the  captives  understood  not  what 
wras  to  befall  them,  when  directly  a tall,  erect  Indian, 
the  lines  of  whose  face  indicated  some  degree  of 
compassion,  stepped  forward  .vith  spear  in  hand, 


1 6 Andele,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive. 

advanced  slowly  towards  the  naked  Mexican  and 
then  hesitated.  He  seemed  to  be  unsettled.  He 
soliloquized:  “In  that  man's  veins  flows'  the  same 
blood  that  courses  in  mine.  My  father  was  a Mexi- 
can. I can  not  kill  him.’’ 

He  turned  and  handed  the  spear  to  another  Indian, 
upon  whose  face  savage  hate  and  cruel  bloodthirstiness 
had  plowed  its  furrows  deep  and  lasting.  With  devilish 
delight  gleaming  in  his  eye  he  stepped  forward,  eyed  the 
Mexican  with  eager  pleasure  for  a moment,  then  sud- 
denly springing  upon  him  he  thrust  the  spear  entirely 
through  his  body.  As  the  spear  was  withdrawn,  and 
the  blood  spurted  forth,  the  Mexican  sprang  forward, 
forced  his  way  through  the  band  of  howling  Apaches 
and  leaped  like  a deer  down  the  bluff  to  the  creek,  but 
ere  he  reached  the  water’s  edge  his  quivering  body  was 
filled  with  arrows.  With  a wild  wail  of  despair  he  lifted 
his  hands  toward  heaven  and  fell  full  length  at  the 
water’s  edge.  Holquin  was  dead.  This  was  an  awful 
scene  to  Andres  and  Pedro,  and  haunted  them  in  the 
visions  of  the  night.  They  knew  not  how  soon  theirs 
would  be  the  like  fate. 


STUMBLING  BEAR,  A KIOWA  CHIEF. 


CHAPTER  III. 


A Vain  Pursuit. 

It  was  now  noon.  The  force  of  wheat  threshers 
had  ceased  work  and  were  at  dinner. 

“I  must  go  now,”  said  Don  Jaun  Martinez,  “to 
see  the  little  boys  and  carry  them  some  dinner.  Pedro 
deserves  to  go  hungry  for  his  disobedience,  but  I sup- 
pose he  is  hungry  enough  by  this  time  to  eat  in  spite 
of  a guilty  conscience.  I shall  hurry  back,  but  let 
the  threshing  go  on  in  the  meantime.  It  is  only  two 
miles  over  there  and  I shall  be  back  directly.  I may 
have  some  difficulty  in  finding  them,  however,  for  I 
know  not  the  exact  grazing  grounds  to-day.” 

Martinez  hurried  on  and  soon  came  to  the  little 
valley.  He  discovered  the  cows  standing  under  the 
shade  of  a large  oak  at  the  far  end  of  the  valley  a half 
mile  away,  and  of  course  expecting  to  find  the  boys 
near  there,  he  rode  in  that  direction.  Disappointed  in 
his  search,  he  began  to  call,  but  no  answer  came. 

“It  must  be,”  he  said,  “that  they  have  gone  for 
water  to  that  spring  yonder.”  He  waited  awhile, 
then  started  in  search.  As  he  rode  across  the  valley, 

17 


1 8 Andele , or  The  Mexican-  K ioipa  Captive. 

to  his  surprise  and  horror,  he  discovered  the  tracks  of 
moccasined  feet.  He  shouted  out,  calling  in  wild 
despair.  He  followed  the  tracks  out  to  the  road, 
where  he  found  the  flour  scattered  from  the  sacks  of 
the  Mexican. 

“The  Indians  have  stolen  my  poor  little  boys,”  he 
exclaimed,  as  the  truth  dawned  upon  him  fully. 
“Curses  on  them,”  and  putting  spurs  to  his  horse  he 
sped  home,  to  gather  sufficient  force  and  follow  the 
Indians  in  hot  pursuit. 

There  was  consternation  in  rile'  Martinez  family, 
and  in  the  whole  community,  when  the  news  of  the 
little  boys’  disappearance  was  received,  and  soon  prep- 
arations were  made  to  follow  the  marauding  band  of 
Apaches.  Some  delay  was  occasioned,  however,  and 
by  the  time  the  force  was  fully  organized  and  equipped 
night  was  settling  down,  and  it  was  thought  not  ad- 
visable to  start  in  pursuit  till  morning,  lest  they  be 
caught  in  ambush  by  the  wily  Apaches. 

No  sleep  closed  the  eyelids  of  Jaun  Martinez  and 
the  family  that  night.  It  was  a night  of  heart  sorrow- 
ing and  weeping;  a night  that  seemed  never  to  end. 
But  morning  dawned  at  last,  and  the  party  was  out  and 
on  the  trail  of  the  Apaches.  They  found  the  tracks 
of  the  little  boys  at  the  spot  where  the  savages  ran 


Andele , or  The  Mexican- Kiowfik  Captive.  19 

upon  them.  Following  on  they  came  to  the  scene  of 
the  capture  of  the  Mexican  and  his  burros.  From 
here  they  found  a plain  trail,  and  soon  came  upon  the 
mangled  bod}”  of  the  murdered  .Mexican  lying  full 
length  at  the  brink  of  the  little  creek  where  he  had 
been  so  horribly  pierced  with  spear  and  arrows  the 
evening  before. 

Following  the  trail  on  in  the  direction  of  Las 
Vegas,  they  came  to  a stream,  but  after  crossing 
it,  the  savages  had  so  adroitly  covered  their  track 
that  no  trace  of  tnem  could  be  found,  and  thence- 
forth all  must  depend  upon  conjecture  as  to  the  direc- 
tion the  Indians  had  gone.  The  party,  however, 
continued  pushing  forward  in  the  direction  of  Ft.  Sum- 
ner, till  they  arrived  at  that  place,  hoping  that,  while 
the5r  had  lost  the  trail  of  the  savages,  they  might  still 
hear  from  the  lost  boys  through  the  occasional  bands 
of  friendly  Indians  that  visited  that  point.  They 
waited  here  for  several  days,  but  hearing  nothing  and 
giving  up  hope,  Jaun  Martinez,  with  tired  body  and 
broken  heart,  turned  his  face  toward  home.  He  never 
recovered  from  this  awful  shock,  but  after  three  years 
of  anxious  search  for  the  little  boys  through  all  the  sav- 
age tribes  of  the  Southwest,  with  broken  hear  the  died. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


The  Flight.  Little  Pedro’s  Death. 

Let  us  return  to  the  little  captives.  Leaving  the 
dead  Mexican  at  the  creek,  in  too  much  haste  to  scalp 
him,  the  ApacHes  hurried  ou  a few  miles  towards  Las 
Vegas  and  hid  among  the  rocks  in  the  hills  near  Hot 
Springs.  The  boys  dared  not  make  a noise,  and  they 
could  only  sob  in  silence. 

Poor  Pedro!  how  his  heart  smote  him  when  he 
thought  of  having  run  away  from  home  that  morning. 
How  he  yearned  once  more  to  hear  his  mother’s  tender 
voice,  look  into  her  loving  face,  receive  her  forgiving 
kiss,  and  feel  the  presence  of  her  loving  arms  about 
him  again;  but  he  was  destined  to  see  her  no  more  till 
they  should  meet  before  the  Father’s  face  up  yonder. 
Andres  tried  to  comfort  him,  but  the  hope  held  out  to 
him  was  too  vague;  it  brought  no  comfort.  Night 
settled  down,  and  the  Indians  came  out  from  their 
hiding  place  among  the  rocks  and  underbrush  of  the 
mountain  side,  and  stealthily  made  their  way  towards 
Las  Vegas,  crossed  the  river  near  by  and  found  a hiding 

place  in  a thicket,  not  far  from  the  sleeping  town. 

20 


Andele,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive.  21 

Here  they  held  a consultation,  and  leaving  four 
men  with  the  boys,  the  whole  band  scattered  out  in 
different  directions.  This  is  their  plan  when  they  go 
out  to  steal  horses,  but  when  they  go  out  to  kill,  they 
stay  together,  if  they  have  any  idea  their  foes  are 
gathered  at  any  point  in  numbers. 

It  was  a long  night  with  the  little  boys.  It  seemed 
that  the  light  would  never  come  again.  They  were 
confined  each  between  two  savages,  who  threatened 
them  with  cruel  torture  every  time  the  least  audible 
sob  or  cry  was  heard  from  them. 

“Shall  I ever  see  home  again?’’  thought  Andres, 
“When  the  morning  dawns,  will  father  come  for  us? 
Will  the  morning  ever  dawn  again?  Oh,  I want  to  go 
home,  I want  to  see  mother.  Surely  I can  go  back 
home  to  see  my  mother.  ’ ’ And  all  the  long,  dark  night 
the  boys  sorrowed  as  no  one  can  describe. 

In  the  first  early  dawn , the  Apaches  began  to  return 
from  different  directions  as  they  had  departed,  but  all 
mounted  on  good  horses,  and  leading  four  extra  horses 
intended  for  the  four  men  who  had  been  left  with  the 
boys.  Here  they  waited  but  for  a moment,  for  they 
knew  they  would  be  pursued  as  soon  as  the  light  of 
day  revealed  their  maraudings.  The  four  Indians 
sprang  upon  the  backs  of  the  extra  horses  brought  for 


22  Andele,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive. 

them,  and  the  two  who  were  the  boys’  captors  seized 
them  with  rough  hands,  pulled  them  upon  their  horses 
behind  them,  passed  a rawhide  rope  around  their 
bodies,  and  tied  them  securely  to  their  own  bodies  to 
prevent  either  falling  off  or  any  possible  escape  in  the 
thick  jungles  through  which  they  must  pass  in  their 
flight . 

Passing  out  through  the  thick  undergrowth  down 
to  the  river,  they  recrossed,  and  to  deceive  any  who 
might  follow  as  to  their  real  purpose  and  destination,, 
with  rapid  movement  they  bent  their  course  eastward,, 
and  by  daylight  were  out  on  a broad  prairie. 

After  a few  miles  the  band,  turning  their  course  to 
the  southwest,  in  sweeping  gallop,  went  thundering 
along,  never  daring  to  stop,  lest  the  people,  aroused 
and  in  hot  pursuit,  should  overtake  them  upon  the 
open  prairie,  where  they  would  be  no  match  for  the 
white  man  or  Mexican.  It  is  only  in  the  brush  or 
among  the  rocks  that  the  Indian  becomes  a match  for 
other  people.  He  will  not  fight  in  open  prairie,  if  he 
can  avoid  it,  and  out  on  open  prairie,  one  man  behind 
his  horse,  or  other  object,  can  keep  many  Indians  at  a 
distance.  In  the  brush  or  rocks,  however,  he  is  the 
superior  of  all  others. 

At  sunrise,  the  band  went  like  a whirlwind,  thun- 


Andele , or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive.  23 

dering  down  into  a beautiful  little  ve°;a,  or  meadow, 
where  several  thousand  sheep  were  grazing.  Spying  the 
poor  shepherd,  who,  on  account  of  the  elevation  of 
land  to  the  westward  over  which  the  Indians  were 
coming,  was  not  apprised  of  their  approach  till  they 
were  between  him  and  the  little  rock  fortress  just  011 
the  opposite  side  of  the  meadow,  they  let  fly  at  him  a 
perfect  shower  of  arrows,  many  of  which  fastened 
themselves  into  the  poor  man’s  quivering  flesh.  With 
a cry  of  despair  he  fell  forward  upon  his  face  in  appar- 
ent painful  death. 

Just  at  this  moment  a report  was  heard,  a whizzing 
missile,  sent  from  the  rifle  of  a man  in  the  little  rock 
fortress,  stayed  the  purpose  of  an  Indian,  who  was 
just  in  the  act  of  scalping  the  dead  man  as  he  lay  there 
upon  his  face.  But  the  Indian,  behind  whom  Andres 
rode,  coming  up,  and  seeing  the  body  of  the  poor 
shepherd  lying  there  filled  with  arrows , sticking  out  like 
the  spines  of  a porcupine,  shot  one  more  into  it,  then 
resolved  upon  recovering  some  of  them.  Urging  his 
horse  up  near  the  bleeding  body,  he  reached  down, 
took  hold  of  an  arrow  and  pulled;  but  the  steel  point, 
with  reverse  barbs,  was  too  securely  imbedded  and 
fastened  in  the  man’s  body  to  be  easily  extracted.  He 
pulled  again,  but  with  no  better  success,  this  time 


24  Andele , or  The  Mexican-Kioiva  Captive. 

lifting  the  body  from  the  ground  as  he  tugged  at  the 
arrow.  The  next  effort  was  to  make  his  horse  stand 
with  his  forefeet  upon  the  body  to  hold  it  down  while 
he  again  pulled  at  the  arrows,  but  this  too  was  inef- 
fectual, and  the  Indian,  seeing  that  he  was  being  left 
far  behind  his  fleeing  band,  gave  up  the  effort  and  has- 
tened on. 

Continuing  eastward  for  a few  miles,  the  Apaches 
suddenly  turned  to  the  southwest.  All  day  long  they 
continued  at  a rapid  rate.  Night  coming  on,  they 
slackened  their  speed,  but  did  not  stop.  They  had 
been  in  too  many  marauding,  murdering  expeditions 
to  be  caught  sleeping.  The  night  travel  only  would 
measure  the  distance  between  them  and  whoever 
should  pursue  them,  if  only  their  pursuers  could  once 
get  their  trail  correctly. 

The  poor  little  boys  were  tired  and  worn,  and  from 
sheer  exhaustion  their  heads  would  droop  in  sleep,  to 
be  awakened  in  an  instant  by  the  abrupt,  irregular 
gait  of  the  horses . 

“Andres!  Andres!’’  cried  little  Pedro,  as  in  the 
flight  they  came  close  to  each  other,  “Andres,  I want 
to  go  home,  I want  to  see  mother,  will  I ever  see 
mother  again!  Oh,  Andres,  I am  so  tired.  I am—’’ 

“Hush,  Pedro,’’  said  Andres,  “I  can  not  help  you 


Andele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  25 

now,  and  your  cry  only  hurts  me  the  more.  Don’t 
call  me  again . ’ ’ 

And  here  the  Indians,  in  mock  tenderness,  called' 
out,  “We  are  taking  you  to  see  your  mother,  we  know 
she  is  crying  for  you  now.”  And  the  whole  band 
laughed  at  the  grim,  tantalizing  joke. 

The  weary  night  passed  away  at  last,  and  the  sec- 
ond day  dawned;  but  its  rich  and  mellow  light  brought 
no  joy  to  the  little  boys,  for  the  Indians  again  increased 
their  speed,  being  fully  persuaded  that  they  would  be 
followed  in  hot  pursuit,  and  as  yet  they  had  not  trav- 
eled through  country  where  they  could  well  cover  their 
trail.  All  day  long  they  continued  their  southwest 
course.  Knowing  the  country,  the}’  kept  out  of  sight 
of  all  habitations,  lest  being  attacked  and  engaged  in 
fight  they  should  be  delayed,  and  then  overtaken  by 
their  supposed  pursuers. 

The  day  passed,  night  again  settled  down,  but  still 
no  halt  was  called.  The  long  night  wore  away  in 
travel,  and  the  morning  of  the  third  day  came,  clear 
and  bright,  but  doomed  to  be  a day  of  darkness  and 
sorrow  to  the  boys. 

Pedro  was  completely  exhausted,  and  could  not  sit 
up.  He  was  crying  piteously.  He  and  Andres  both, 
rubbed  by  the  saddles  in  front,  cut  by  the  ropes  around 


26  Andele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

their  bleeding  bodies,  and  bruised  and  sore  by  the  con- 
stant jogging  and  irregular  gait  of  the  horses,  were 
suffering  untold  agonies.  They  had  eaten  nothing 
since  the  morning  they  left  home  to  herd  the  cattle  in 
the  little  vega. 

Pedro  could  go  no  further.  He  fainted  away  in  his 
agony,  but  revived  again  and  continued  to  cry  pit- 
eously. The  Indians  stopped  suddenly.  A hurried  and 
earnest  consultation  was  held,  when  the  Indian  behind 
whom  Pedro  rode  sprang  from  his  horse  carrying  the 
little  boy  with  him.  The  little  fellow  could  with  the 
greatest  effort  only  stand  upon  his  feet,  strained  in  every 
limb,  heartbroken,  dying.  Taking  a spear  from  his 
belt,  the  Indian,  standing  behind  Pedro,  with  a mur- 
derous grunt,  thrust  it  through  the  body  of  the  little 
sufferer. 

Andres,  seeing  this  horrible  performance,  and  forget- 
ting his  own  sufferings,  with  a quick  jerk  at  the 
rope  around  his  body,  freed  himself  from  the  Indian 
to  whom  he  was  fastened,  sprang  with  surprising 
adroitness  from  the  horse  and  caught  his  little  nephew 
just  as  he  was  falling  pale  and  lifeless  to  the  ground. 
An  Indian  at  this  moment  urged  his  horse  forward, 
struck  Andres  in  the  forehead  with  the  end  of  his 
spear,  inflicting  a wound  which  leaves  its  scar  till  this 


Andele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  27 

day,  caught  him  by  the  hair  of  his  head  and  threw  him 
to  his  place  again  on  the  horse.  Quick  work  this  was, 
and  the  Indians  resumed  their  journey  in  a gallop. 

Poor  little  Pedro’s  body  was  left  alone  upon  the 
broad  prairie,  far  away  from  home,  to  be  eaten  by  the 
wolves  by  night  or  dried  into  a mummy  by  the  winds 
and  sun  by  day.  No  ghostly  marble  pointing  to  the 
pale  and  pitying  stars  shall  mark  his  resting  place. 
The  resurrection  morn  alone  shall  find  him.  He 
sleeps  alone  till  then. 

The  purpose  of  the  Indians  was  to  reach  a timbered 
and  hill  country,  where  they  felt  sure  that  pursuit 
would  either  be  impossible  or  easily  evaded.  Yonder 
to  the  south,  among  the  rocks  and  the  low7,  stunted 
grow-th,  they  felt  sure  that  they  would  be  secure  for 
awhile  at  least.  So  they  pressed  their  way  in  that 
direction  eagerly,  till  reaching  the  summit  of  a hill 
the}7  halted.  Here  they  scanned  the  country  around 
in  every  direction  to  see  if  there  w7as  an  enemy  in 
sight.  Being  assured  there  w7as  none,  the}'-  prepared 
to  tarry  here  till  their  horses  were  rested,  and  they 
themselves  were  refreshed.  The  horses  being  too  much 
jaded  to  run  off,  were  set  free  to  graze  upon  the  rich 
prairie  grass  growing  in  profusion  every where. 

But  one  of  the  horses  must  be  slain  to  appease  the 


28  Andele,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive. 

hunger  of  the  starving  Indians  themselves.  A pony, 
looking  less  able  to  endure  the  hardships  of  further 
travel,  was  selected,  when  two  Apaches  dropped  to 
their  knees,  drew  their  bows,  and  with  sure  aim  sent 
their  arrows  to  the  horse's  heart.  In  a moment  the 
starving  Indians  gathered  around  the  dying  pony,  and 
with  butcherknife  and  dirk,  cut  off  the  quivering  flesh 
in  great  hunks,  threw  the  pieces  upon  the  fire,  and 
scorching  them  a little  began  eating  with  an  eager 
relish,  which  only  a savage  appetite  could  know. 

“Little  boy,  who  wants  to  see  his  mother,  come 
here.  Eat.  Good,  ’ ’ said  Andres'  captor,  as  he  handed 
him  a piece  of  the  scorched,  but  still  bleeding  horseflesh. 
“ No,”  said  Andres,  as  he  staggered  back  in  disgust. 
But  the  Indian  struck  him  a blow  with  his  girt  that 
nearly  prostrated  him,  for  already  he  was  weak  and 
bleeding  from  cuts  and  bruises  received  the  past  few 
days  along  the  way.  Great  pieces  of  skin  and  flesh 
hung  down  from  various  parts  of  his  body. 

“Eat,”  repeated  the  Indian,  as  he  raised  his  girt 
for  another  blow.  Andres  took  the  piece  offered  him, 
bit  it  reluctantly  at  first,  but  in  a moment  his  appetite 
was  awakened,  the  gnawing  of  his  stomach  responded, 
and  he  began  to  eat  with  as  much  apparent  relish  as 
his  savage  captors. 


Andele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  29 

When  Indians  suspect  that  an  enemy  is  upon  their 
trail,  they  never  halt  in  lowlands  or  open  prairie,  but 
always  seek  some  high  point,  commanding  a view  of 
the  surrounding  country.  At  such  a place  they  can 
rest  and  watch  at  the  same  time.  At  this  time  they 
were  so  guarded,  and  here  they  remained  till  their 
horses  were  rested  and  they  had  about  consumed  the 
one  they  had  killed.  When  they  again  took  up  their 
journey,  feeling  that  danger  of  pursuit  was  about  over, 
they  traveled  more  leisurely.  Reaching  the  Pecos 
River  they  found  a great  herd  of  cattle,  deserted  upon 
their  approach  by  the  herders,  grazing  along  its  banks, 
a large  number  of  which  they  collected  together  and 
drove  away  for  beef  as  soon  as  they  should  reach  their 
camp,  only  a few  days  journey  now  to  the  west. 


CHAPTER  V. 


Andres’  Sufferings.  Resolves  to  Die.  En- 
gages in  a Deadly  Conflict  with  the 
Apache  Boys.  Is  Rescued  by  the  Kiowas. 

Twenty  days  had  now  elapsed  since  the  capture  of 
the  little  boys  near  Las  Vegas.  They  had  been  days 
of  horrible  scenes  and  fearful  sufferings  to  Andres. 
Hardly  a spot  upon  his  body  that  was  not  bruised  and 
bleeding.  Great  pieces  of  skin  hung  from  his  arms 
and  shoulders.  He  wished  for  death.  He  envied 
Pedro  his  sleep  back  upon  the  prairie.  He  longed  for 
a spear  through  his  own  heart  to  end  his  sufferings. 
Then  the  memory  of  home  and  home  associations 
came  like  a flood  tide  upon  heart  and  soul.  Mother's 
sweet  face  and  loving  voice,  father's  prudent  reproof 
and  kindly  advice,  and  even  Dionieio  and  Regordio’s 
occasional  jokes,  all  crowded  the  heart  and  memory 
almost  to  bursting. 

“Shall  I never  see  them  again?’’  thought  Andres. 
His  heart  was  breaking,  and  he  resolved  to  die.  He 

determined  to  do  something  to  make  the  miserable 

30 


Andele , or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive.  31 

Mescal eros  murder  him.  Here  was  the  Pecos  River. 
This  would  be  a good  place.  They  were  about  to 
cross  it  again.  This  would  be  his  opportunity — but 
just  at  this  instant  there  was  heard  the  strange,  weird 
mingling  of  female  voices  in  the  distance  up  the  river. 
The  noise  died  upon  the  breeze,  but  in  a moment  it 
came  again,  louder  and  yet  more  near. 

The  band  of  Apaches  listened  a moment,  then  rais- 
ing the  triumphant  war-whoop  dashed  forward  with  all 
possible  speed,  for  they  recognized  in  the  wild  song 
coming  to  them  on  the  air,  the  voices  of  wives  and 
mothers  and  sisters,  who,  being  notified  by  a messen- 
ger sent  ahead  several  days  before,  had  come  a day’s 
journey  to  meet  the  triumphant  warriors  returning 
with  scalps  and  captives.  Instead  of  greeting  first 
their  returning  husbands  and  brothers,  the  squaws  ran 
upon  Andres,  four  of  them  striking  him  each  a blow 
across  his  bruised  head  and  bleeding  shoulders.  There 
is  a peculiar  honor  and  privilege  accorded  to  the  squaw 
who  first  strikes  a captive,  and  a little  less  honor  to 
the  next,  and  on  to  the  fourth,  after  which  there  is  no 
special  inducement  to  strike  a captive  but  wanton 
cruelty,  which  is  often  indulged  in  by  the  squaws,  to 
which,  as  we  shall  soon  see,  Andres  could  testify. 
After  the  assault  upon  him  and  abuse,  they  turned  to 


32  Andele , or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive. 

pay  their  respects  to  husbands  and  brothers  in  the 
returning  band. 

Soon  they  were  moving  forward  again,  carrying 
before  them  the  herd  of  cattle  stolen  the  day  before. 
Again  crossing  the  Pecos,  they  push  their  way  along 
its  banks,  till  yonder  in  the  distance,  close  at  the 
mountain’s  base,  could  be  seen  an  Indian  settlement. 
Their  camping  place  was  in  sight.  It  was  home  to 
them.  Indians  have  no  definite  abiding  place,  except 
as  civilization  closing  in  around  them  forces  them  to 
a local  habitation . Their  wigwams  or  tepees  are  only 
temporary  structures,  made  of  skins  or  ducking,  that 
can  be  taken  up  and  moved  on  short  notice.  When 
left  free  to  wander,  as  in  the  days  of  these  events,  they 
camped  only  a short  time  at  a place,  never  more  than 
a few  months,  often  less  than  a week.  But  this  camp 
had  been  established  two  months  before  by  this  band 
of  warriors  for  the  benefit  of  their  women  and  chil- 
dren, when  they  started  out  on  their  marauding  expe- 
dition into  New  Mexico.  They  were  instructed  to 
remain  here  until  their  return,  as  it  was  a secluded 
place  and  secure  against  an  enemy’s  approach  unde- 
tected. 

The  camp  was  in  a stir  as  they  saw  the  returning 
band  approaching.  A wild,  savage  shout  from  both  the 


Andele , or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive.  33 

warriors  and  the  campers  made  the  surroundings  hid- 
eous, and  Andres'  heart  sank  in  despair  as  he  thought 
of  his  possible  destiny.  But  this  time  they  paid  but 
little  attention  to  him.  The  squaws  took  the  horses, 
staked  them  out  by  the  long  hair  ropes,  or  rawhide 
lariats,  led  their  husbands  away  to  their  tepees  for  rest, 
while  the  young  men  surrounded  the  cattle  and  began 
to  kill  them,  till  more  than  a hundred  lay  prostrate 
upon  the  ground.  The  squaws  came  out,  and  with 
shouts  of  joy  and  songs  of  triumph  dressed  the  beeves. 
Fires  were  built  and  soon  the  feast  began. 

The  names  of  the  captors  were  on  all  lips,  and  a 
discordant  song  in  their  honor  was  made  for  the  occa- 
sion, while  each  Indian  of  the  marauding  band  was 
bragging  about  his  own  achievements.  Andres  was 
placed  in  the  center  of  the  circle  and  ridiculed  and 
used  as  sport  for  the  wild,  exultant  savages.  After 
cruel  jest  and  wanton  sport,  for  the  howling  crowd  con- 
tinued till  night,  Andres  was  given  over  to  his  cap- 
tor's wife,  a little  lame  woman,  who  seemed  to  have 
some  little  spark  of  human  sympathj^  left  in  her  heart. 
It  is  often  the  case  that  only  suffering  will  bring  one 
into  sympathy  with  other  sufferers,  and  now  the  little 
lame  woman  was  the  only  one  in  all  that  crowd  who 
showed  any  feeling  for  the  little  captive.  She  took 


34  Andele,  or  The  Mexican- K’idwa  Captive. 

the  exhausted  boy  by  the  arm  and  led  him  along  with 
such  kindness  that  his  bleeding  heart  was  to  some 
extent  encouraged  and  refreshed.  He  was  placed  into 
a little  cowhide  tepee  and  fell  exhausted  upon  a bed 
of  straw  and  longed  to  die.  He  fell  asleep,  however, 
and  awakened,  not  till  the  bright  light  of  the  morning 
peeped  in  upon  him.  He  was  alone.  How  strange 
the  surroundings!  He  lay  there  and  gazed  at  the 
shelter  over  him.  He  had  dreamed  of  home  and 
mother.  He  could  not  realize  where  he  was;  but 
as  full  consciousness  returned,  he  remembered  all  the 
fearful  experiences  of  the  past  three  weeks,  and  be- 
came fully  aware  again  of  his  surroundings.  He 
had  never  slept  in  a tepee  before.  It  was  made  of  two 
cowhides  stretched  over  the  mature  stems  growing 
from  the  center  of  the  yucca  plant.  Sometimes  three 
hides  are  used  in  this  way.  The  wealthier  Indians 
use  three  or  more  hides.  These  hides,  either  buffalo 
or  beef,  are  dressed  on  both  sides,  and  are  made  as 
pliable  as  ordinary  tanned  leather. 

Andres  was  not  allowed  to  remain  undisturbed 
long.  He  was  soon  called  out  and  given  the  refused 
beef,  after  others  had  eaten  their  fill.  He  soon  began 
a life  of  servitude,  carrying  wood  and  water,  and  tending 
the  horses  on  the  range;  but  he  was  closely  watched, 


Andele,  oi ' The  Mexican -Kiowa  Captive.  35 

and  not  allowed  to  be  long  alone.  It  was  an  almost 
hourly  occurrence  for  the  Apache  boys  to  gather 
around  him  and  hoot  and  jeer  and  throw  stones  at 
him,  till  his  bod}'  was  covered  with  bruises  and  fester- 
ing sores.  This  made  life  unbearable,  and  he  again 
resolved  to  die.  He  made  up  his  mind  to  go  into  a 
desperate  conflict  with  the  Apaches  and  thus  die  fight- 
ingthem.  He  resolved  to  do  this  the  next  time  he 
was  sent  for  water  to  the  spring  at  the  foot  of  the  hill, 
for  it  was  when  he  went  to  the  spring  that  the  Apache 
boys  tormented  him  so. 

At  the  tepee  the  little  lame  woman  protected  him, 
for  she,  among  them  all,  seemed  to  be  the  only  one 
who  had  any  spark  of  love  or  human  kindness  left  in 
her  soul. 

At  this  time  Andres’  captor  put  him  to  digging  a 
hole  in  the  ground.  After  digging  it  about  two  feet 
deep,  and  about  the  same  in  diameter,  the  Indian  took 
a cow  skin  and  lined  the  hole  with  it,  so  that  it 
would  hold  water.  He  then  filled  it  with  water  and 
mixed  into  it  a considerable  quantity  of  pounded 
mesquite  beans,  covered  it  closely,  built  some  pro  tec - 
tection  around  and  then  left  it  alone.  Andres  became 
interested  in  the  performance,  and  watched  to  see 
what  could  be  the  object.  He  forgot  his  sufferings  for 


36  Andele , or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive. 

awhile,  and  for  several  days  the  Apache  boys  for  some 
reason  did  not  trouble  him,  except  by  jeering  him  as 
he  passed  along. 

One  day,  about  a week  after  this,  there  came  to  the 
camp  some  visiting  Apaches  from  another  settlement 
up  the  river.  The  little  lame  woman  was  sent  out  to 
the  hole  dug  in  the  ground  the  week  before,  and  she 
came  in  with  a vessel  rilled  with  mesquite  beer,  a liq- 
uor upon  which  the  Apaches  often  got  beastly  drunk. 
After  having  drunken  freely  of  this  intoxicant, 
Andres  was,  as  he  thought,  traded  to  the  visiting 
Apache  for  a quantity  of  liquor.  The  little  lame 
woman  pleaded  for  the  privilege  of  keeping  him,  but 
to  no  avail,  and  Andres  was  forced  to  take  his  place 
in  another  camp  under  new  hands. 

But  he  did  not  remain  in  his  new  quarters  long 
before  he  was  again  traded  or  given  to  another  cruel 
Mescalero,  and  here  his  sufferings  began  anew.  Night 
and  day  he  was  tormented  by  his  persecutors  who 
took  the  greatest  delight  in  seeing  him  suffer.  One 
night  the  chief  of  this  new  camp  stood  out  in  the  dim 
light  of  the  camp  fires,  and  in  a wild,  weird  voice 
began  to  call.  Andres  could  not  understand  what  he 
Avas  saying,  but  as  he  saAAr  the  people  coming  together 
he  imagined  that  they  AA^ere  devising  some  neA\T  method 


Ande/e,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  37 

for  torturing  him,  and  his  heart  sank  within  him. 
But  as  he  anxiously  watched,  he  discovered  that  the 
Indians,  painted  in  most  fantastic  style,  were  gathering 
around  a tepee  down  near  the  creek.  Before  the 
tepee  a few  paces,  was  a large  cedar  branch  standing 
stuck  in  the  ground.  The  Apaches,  keeping  time  to 
the  tom-tom  beating  within,  circled  around  the  tepee 
three  times,  then  bowing  toward  the  rising  sun  stooped 
and  entered. 

The  tom-tom,  the  rattle  gourd,  and  the  discordant 
song  began  in  earnest,  and  the  Indians  were  indulging 
in  a Mescal  revelry.  While  they  were  thus  engaged, 
Andres  had  a night  of  rest,  for  all  night  long  the 
tump,  tump,  tump  of  the  tom-tom,  and  the  noise  of 
the  rattle  gourd  and  the  singing  continued,  and  when 
the  sun  came  up  and  their  revelry  was  ended,  they  lay 
down  in  stupor  and  slept.  When  they  awoke  orders 
were  given  to  break  camp,  and  in  half  an  hour  they 
were  on  the  march  to  find  a new  camp  at  some  more 
propitious  place. 

Two  months  had  now  elapsed  since  reaching  the 
Apaches  settlement  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain.  They 
were  in  a land  of  other  marauding  tribes,  and  scouts 
were  kept  constantly  in  advance.  One  day  the  scouts 
in  turning  a bend  in  a little  valley  were  suddenly 


38  AncLele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

confronted  by  a band  of  marauding,  warlike  Kiowas, 
their  old  enemies.  They  were  too  close  to  make  any 
effort  to  escape,  so  they  proposed  terms  of  peace, 
and  offered  to  conduct  the  Kiowas  back  to  the  Apache 
camp,  for  the  full  band  of  Apaches  had  not  that  day 
taken  up  the  march.  The  Kiowas,  well  knowing  the 
treachery  of  the  Mescalero  Apaches,  prudently  declined 
to  be  led  into  any  trap  that  might  be  laid  for  them, 
and  so  to  secure  safety  for  themselves  they  took  two 
of  the  Apache  scouts,  placed  them  under  guard,  and 
sent  two  of  their  own  warriors  with  the  remaining 
scouts  to  the  Apache  camp  to  have  the  terms  of  peace 
agreed  upon  and  confirmed. 

The  sudden  and  unexpected  appearance  of  the 
Kiowas  so  deterred  the  Apaches  that  it  was  not  long 
before  the  matter  of  peace  was  confirmed  and  the 
scouts  had  returned  answer  to  the  Kiowas. 

1 ‘ The  Kiowas  are  coming,  ’ ’ said  an  Indian  . to 
Andres,  “ and  they  will  get  you.” 

“Anything  in  preference  to  what  I am  now  endur- 
ing,” thought  Andres;  and  in  spite  of  his  surround- 
ings a faint  smile  came  upon  his  face,  the  first  perhaps 
since  his  capture.  Soon  the  Kiowas  came  in  sight, 
and  although  terms  of  peace  had  been  agreed  upon, 
they  went  through  the  Apache  camp  with  some  degree 


Andele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  39 

of  insolence,  and  seemed  to  be  intent  either  in  provok- 
ing them  to  war  or  in  showing  them  their  superiority; 
but  the  Apaches  were  too  prudent  to  resent  it,  and 
endeavored  to  take  everything  in  perfect  good  humor. 

After  the  excitement  had  somewhat  worn  off,  and 
the  Indians  of  both  tribes  had  nearly  all  gone  to  their 
respective  camps  (for  all  had  camped  close  around), 
Andres  was  sent  to  the  creek  for  water.  Ke  fell  in 
again  with  his  tormentors,  the  Apache  boys,  and  one 
of  them  striking  him,  there  began  a desperate  fight 
between  him,  single  handed,  and  half  a dozen  Apache 
boys.  He  struck  one  of  them  a blow  upon  his  head 
which  felled  him  to  the  ground,  and  springing  upon 
him,  he  was  in  the  act  of  dealing  a deadly  blow 
with  a stone  he  held  in  his  hand,  when  a missile 
sent  from  the  hand  of  an  enraged  Apache  struck 
him  a severe  blow  on  the  arm.  His  hold  on  the 
struggling  Indian  beneath  somewhat  relaxed,  and  the 
weapon  fell  from  his  other  hand,  when  suddenly,  he 
was  hurled  by  a quick  movement  of  his  writhing 
antagonist  to  the  ground  himself.  The  howling 
Apache  boys  rushed  forward,  and  Andres  thought  now 
the  end  is  come,  when  to  his  surprise,  they  began  sud- 
denly to  scatter  and  run,  and  in  a moment  all  had  dis- 
appeared down  the  steep  bluff  near  by. 


40  Andele,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive. 

■ Looking  up  Andres  discovered  two  Kiowas  stand- 
ing near,  who  had  come  upon  the  scene  just  in  time 
to  save  him  from  the  cruel  torture  of  the  Apaches. 
“ Tagnoe  akonte  ” (Apaches  no  good),  said  one  of  the 
Indians,  as  they  stood  there  with  spears  in  their  hands. 

This  was  a strange  tongue  to  Andres,  and  he 
wondered  what  new  trouble  had  come  to  him  now, 
as  he  watched  them  in  their  feathers  and  paint  and 
wild  paraphernalia.  But  one  of  the  men  spoke  to 
Andres  in  Spanish,  seeing  that  he  was  a Mexican. 
He  himself  was  a Mexican,  captured  long  years  ago, 
when  but  a boy,  and  raised  among  them,  and  in  ways 
and  habits  and  dress  was  scarcely  distinguishable  from 
the  real  Indian. 

“ Little  boyr,”  said  Santiago,  for  this  was  the  sup- 
posed Indian’s  name,  “ why  are  you  here,  and  where 
did  you  come  from?” 

“The  Apaches  stole  me  from  my  home  about  two 
months  ago,”  said  Andres. 

“ Is  this  the  way  they  treat  you?” 

“Yes;  they  have  nearly  killed  me  several  times, 
and  this  time  I thought  I would  fight  till  they  killed 
me  and  so  end  my  sufferings,  for  I had  rather  die  than 
be  tormented  every  day  as  I am . ’ ’ 

“You  were  giving  them  a good  fight,”  said  Heap 


Andele , or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  41 

O’  Bears,  who  caught  what  Andres  was  saying, 
although  he  understood  but  little  Spanish,  “and  we 
are  sorry  that  you  could  not  have  scalped  the  crowd, 
and  could  we  have  got  our  hands  upon  them  we  would 
have  scalped  them  for  you.  You  are  brave  and  now  I 
want  to  take  you  from  these  Apaches  and  give  you  to 
my  daughter  to  be  her  son  in  place  of  her  own  little 
boy  who  died  not  long  ago.  You  see  yonder  tepee? 
To-night,  after  everybody  is  asleep,  you  slip  out  and 
come  there  and  I will  conceal  you.  The  cowardly 
Apaches  dare  not  undertake  to  go  into  my  tepee, 
and  after  a few  days  I will  take  you  across  the  Pecos 
River  and  you  will  be  safe.  My  daughter  will  love 
j'ou  and  you  will  be  happy  with  her.  Go,  now,  and 
when  night  comes  and  sleep  closes  the  eyes  of  the 
Apaches,  you  come.”  All  this  was  spoken  in  a mixt- 
ure of  broken  Spanish  and  Kiowa,  but  Andres  was  so 
intensely  concerned  that  with  a little  assistance  from 
Santiago,  he  understood  all  that  Heap  O’  Bears  had 
intended. 

“ Sabe?”  said  Heap  O’  Bears  as  he  was  turning  to 
go.  “Si  Senor,”  answered  Andres  quickly,  for  hope 
of  better  times  sprang  up  in  his  heart,  and  he  was 
ready  for  any  emergency  to  bring  about  this  end. 

Heap  O’  Bears  and  Santiago  disappeared  down  the 


42  Andele , or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

bluff  over  which  the  Apache  boys  had  gone  so  pre- 
cipitately a few  minutes  before,  while  Andres,  with 
much  apprehension,  went  back  to  the  Apache  camp. 
News  of  his  encounter  with  the  Apache  boys  and  the 
interference  of  the  Kiowas  having  reached  the  camp 
ahead  of  him,  he  received  another  horrible  beating, 
but  he  endured  it  more  patiently,  for  he  felt  sure  that 
he  would  soon  make  his  escape  from  their  cruel  hands , 
and  he  longed  for  the  night  to  come.  But  the  Apaches 
had  been  watching,  and  suspected  that  their  enemies, 
the  Kiowas,  would  seek  to  steal  him,  and  when  the 
time  for  sleeping  came  they  placed  him  close  behind 
an  old  Indian  who  was  to  guard  him.  He  lay  very 
quiet  for  some  time,  but  at  last,  feigning  sleep,  he 
rolled  away  from  the  old  Indian,  who,  with  a savage 
grunt,  reached  over,  struck  him  and  pulled  him  back. 

For  a long  while  Andres  did  not  move  again,  till 
the  deep  breathing  of  the  Indian  assured  him  that  he 
was  asleep,  and  this  time  he  rolled  away  from  him  an 
inch  at  a time  till  he  had  gotten  back  against  the  tepee 
wall.  Fearing  he  could  not  step  over  the  Indian 
without  waking  some  one,  he  reached  his  hand  out 
under  the  tepee  covering,  and  pulling  up  a stake  that 
held  it  down,  he  lifted  it,  making  a sufficient  opening 
through  which  he  could  roll.  In  a moment  he  found 


Andele , or  The  Mexica?i- Kiowa  Captive.  43 

himself  lying  out  in  the  darkness  of  the  night,  prone 
upon  his  back,  looking  up  at  the  pale  and  pitying 
stars.  But  he  had  no  time  to  indulge  the  memories 
of  home  and  mother  and  loved  ones  as  they  came 
crowding  him  and  choking  him  as  he  endeavored  to 
suppress  them.  Without  even  rising  to  his  feet  he 
slipped  along  upon  his  hands  for  some  distance. 
When  he  was  at  a sufficient  distance,  as  he  thought,  to 
be  secure,  he  arose  to  run,  when  he  was,  to  his  aston- 
ishment, suddenly  confronted  by  an  Indian,  who  rose 
up  before  him  from  behind  a large  stone  lying  beside 
the  narrow  trail. 

“Bueno  muchachito,  mucho  bueno,’’  (Good  little 
boy,  very  good).  And  to  Andres’  great  relief  he 
found  it  was  Santiago,  who  had  been  watching  for 
him  to  come,  and  together  they  hurried  away  to  Heap 
O’  Bears'  tepee. 

After  partaking  gratefully  of  jerked  buffalo  meat, 
prepared  for  him  by  Hou-zip-fa,  Heap  O'  Bears’  wife, 
Heap  O'  Bears  said: 

“ Little  Mexican  boy — ’’ 

“Wait,”  said  Andres,  “my  name  is  Andres.’’ 

' ‘ L"mph!  Andele, ' ’ said  Heap  O’  Bears,  for  he  could 
not  frame  his  Kiowa  tongue  to  say  Andres.  And 
Andres,  the  Mexican,  now  becomes  Andele , the  Kiowa . 


44  An  cldc,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive. 

“ Andele,  ’ ' he  continued,  1 ‘ I have  decided  to  buy  you  of 
the  Apaches  to-morrow,  and  if  they  will  not  sell  you, 
we  are  determined  to  fight  for  you  and  take  you  any- 
how. You  go  back  to-night,  and  to-morrow  if  a fight 
begins,  you  may  know  the  trouble,  and  you  watch  your 
opportunity  and  come  to  us.  We  have  no  love  for  the 
Apaches  anyway,  and  if  we  take  their  scalps  it  will 
be  good.  Be  quiet  and  patient  and  we  will  get  you, 
if  not  by  trading  for  you  peaceably,  we  will  get  you 
anyhow.  ’ ’ 

With  full  instructions,  Andres  with  anxious  heart 
went  back  to  the  Apache  camp,  lifted  the  hide  cover- 
ing of  the  tepee  and  rolled  back  into  his  place  behind 
the  old  Indian  just  as  he  was  beginning  to  wake,  and 
so  close  was  Andres  lying,  that  the  old  Indian  never 
suspected  that  he  had  been  out  at  all. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


Sold  to  the  Kiowas.  Becomes  the  Adopted 
Grandsox  of  the  Chief,  Heap  O’  Bears. 

Andres  had,  by  the  night’s  experience  related  in 
the  preceding  chapter,  become  so  excited  that  he  lay 
awake  till  late  thinking  of  the  coming  morrow,  when 
he  hoped  deliverance  would  come  to  him.  He  at  last 
fell  asleep , to  be  awakened  abruptly  by  some  one  j erk- 
ing  him  from  the  pallet  upon  which  he  lay.  It  was 
in  the  broad  light  of  the  morning,  and  he  waited  with 
anxious  heart  for  the  Kiowas’  proposed  trade. 

At  last,  Heap  O’  Bears,  having  arranged  everything 
for  whatever  emergency  might  arise,  approached  the 
Apache  camp.  Santiago  was  with  him,  and  when 
Andres  saw  them  approaching  he  could  hardly  conceal 
his  emotion. 

“ Heap  O'  Bears  has  come,”  said  Santiago,  “to  ask 
you  to  sell  him  that  little  boy  you  have  there,”  point- 
ing at  Andres  as  he  addressed  the  Apache  chief. 

“ How  much?”  said  the  Apache. 

In  answer  Santiago  led  forth  a little  black  mule, 

45 


46  Andele,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive. 

and  down  in  front  of  him  he  threw  two  buffalo  robes 
and  upon  them  a bright,  new,  red  blanket. 

“He  will  give  you  these  for  the  boy,  ’ ’ said  Santiago. 

The  bright,  red  blanket  caught  the  eye  of  the 
Apache,  who  had  never  before  beheld  a thing  so 
attractive  to  him. 

“ May  be  so  me  swap,’’  said  the  Apache,  speaking 
in  broken  English. 

“ Boy,  you  catch  ’em.  You  give  me  mule,  buffalo, 
blanket,  good."  So  saying,  he  turned  to  his  squaw 
and  directed  her  to  take  the  mule  and  robes  to  their 
proper  places,  while  he  drew,  with  much  delight,  the 
red  blanket  over  his  shoulders.  The  squaw  objected 
to  the  trade,  but  to  no  avail,  and  with  a scowl  of  dis- 
approval she  thrust  him  from  them  with  a force  that 
Andres  never  forgot.  This  was  the  woman  who  first 
struck  him  when  he  was  carried  captive  towards  the 
camp  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain.  She  saluted  him 
with  a blow'  then,  she  bade  him  adieu  with  a blow 
now . 

With  a glad  heart  leaving  the  Apaches,  Andres 
was  soon  established  in  the  affections  of  the  Kiowas. 
Hon-zip-fa  took  him  to  her  heart  at  once,  kind  and 
loving  as  a real  mother.  She  prepared  him  a dish  of 
jerked  beef  and  raw'  liver. 


Andele,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive.  47 

“Andele,”  she  said,  “your  head  is  sore.” 

“ The  Mescaleros  beat  me  and  made  my  head  sore, 
and  my  body  is  sore,  too.  But  now  I will  get  all 
right.  You  are  good  to  me,”  replied  Andres. 

“ Ta-quoe  a-kon-te”  (Apaches  no  good),  said  Hon- 
zip-fa,  as  she  drew  Andres  down  upon  her  lap. 

Taking  a butcher  knife,  and  scraping  it  back  and 
forth  over  a stone  to  sharpen  it,  she  proceeded  to  cut 
Andres’  hair.  She  carefully  worked  at  it  until  she  had 
trimmed  it  close  to  the  scalp,  matted  as  it  was  with 
the  sores.  Having  finished  this,  she  dug  up  the  root 
of  a yucca  plant,  or  soap  weed,  which  grew  near  by  and 
proceeded  to  make  a wash  for  his  head,  and  soon  she 
had  it  well  cleansed.  Hurriedly  making  him  a suit  of 
buckskin,  after  the  Indian  fashion,  she  dressed  Andres 
up,  and  he  felt  like  a new  creature. 

Such  a change  from  oppression  and  cruelty,  to  one 
of  comfort  and  kindness,  made  Andres  very  grateful 
and  took  his  mind  at  last  from  thoughts  of  home.  In 
a few  days  his  head  was  well  and  the  great  sores  on 
his  body  had  healed  up,  and  Andres ‘was  happy  and 
contented  with  his  new  friends.  As  soon  as  he  was 
cared  for  and  dressed  in  the  regular  Indian  parapher- 
nalia, the  Kiowas  broke  camp  and  started  on  to  con- 
tinue their  marauding  expedition  with  the  purpose  of 


48  Anclele,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive. 

so  shaping  their  course  as  to  reach  their  home,  away 
to  the  northeast  on  the  Washita,  in  early  spring. 

Heap  O’  Bears  was  riding  a white  mule,  and  taking 
his  new  son  behind  him  led  the  van.  He  gave  Andres 
a good  bow  and  quiver  filled  with  arrows,  and  very 
carefully  and  assiduously  taught  him  how  to  use  them. 
After  the  first  day’s  travel,  coming  upon  a herd  of 
horses  and  mules,  Heap  O’  Bears  captured  a beautiful 
Spanish  mule,  quick  and  sprightly,  which  he  gave  to 
Andres.  Hon-zip-fa  took  a cow  hide  and  shaped  it 
upon  a crude  saddletree  that  she  had  made,  and  thus 
constructed  a saddle  for  him . He  was  now  equipped  for 
traveling  in  as  grand  style  as  his  adopted  grandfather. 

The  Kiowas  went  on  to  the  southwest,  between  the 
Pecos  and  RioGrande  rivers.  Turning  across  the 
high  land  of  that  region,  they  soon  reached  a section 
that  was  for  man}'  miles  destitute  of  water,  and  for 
three  days  they  suffered  agonies  from  a burning  thirst. 
Reaching  a rough  and  rugged  section,  they  came  upon 
a herd  of  wild  cattle,  but  being  so  thirsty  no  one  felt 
disposed  to  disturb  them;  but  seeing  the  cattle  gave 
assurance  of  water  near. 

The  way  being  so  rough  it  was  difficult  to  ride  over 
it,  Kankea  got  down  from  his  horse  and  started  afoot 
in  search  of  the  water  that  he  knew  must  be  near  at  hand . 


CHAT-TLE-KON-KEA,  A KIOWA  CHIEF 


■ 


49 


Andele,  o r The  Mexica?i- Kiowa  Captive. 

In  spite  of  their  suffering,  a wild  shout  of  merriment 
went  up  from  the  band  when  they  saw  Andres  leap 
from  his  little  Spanish  mule  and  start  out,  keeping 
abreast  with  Kankea,  and  sometimes  ahead  of  him. 

“ Ziddlebe,  Andele,  ziddlebe,  kataike,”*  they 
shouted. 

Reaching  the  summit  of  a little  hill,  the  two  dis- 
covered, lying  iu  a little  valley  below,  a most  beautiful 
lake  of  water,  reflecting  from  its  clear  and  placid 
bosom  the  blended  hue  of  verdant  earth  and  azure 
sky.  Never  was  a sight  more  welcome  — nor  more 
beautiful.  Never  was  there  a more  intense  physical 
agony  than  that  of  a burning  thirst;  never  was  there 
a more  grateful  sight  than  a fountain  of  living  water 
to  slake  that  thirst.  So  in  the  spiritual  world.  The 
agonizing  wants  of  the  soul  are  met  by  that  fountain 
of  living  water  springing  up  unto  eternal  life. 

With  a wild  shout  of  delight,  and  a wave  of  the 
hand  to  the  deployed  band,  Kankea  and  Andres  rush 
down  the  slope  to  the  edge  of  the  lake,  fall  prostrate 
and  drink  till  they  could  hold  no  more.  Then  sitting 
up,  Andres  fell  over  deathly  sick,  while  the  water  ran 
from  his  mouth  and  nose  and  eyes.  Soon  recovering, 
he  drank  again,  and  at  last  felt  quite  relieved.  In  a 


*Brave,  heroic  Andres,  good,  very  good. 


50  AncLcle,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive. 

moment,  the  whole  band,  horses  and  men,  were  at  the 
water’s  brink  and  in  the  lake,  and  soon  all  were 
revived. 

After  reconnoitering  the  vicinity,  it  was  decided  to 
camp  for  awhile  somewhere  near  the  lake,  and  go  out 
on  a horse  stealing  and  plundering  expedition . Andres , 
two  men,  and  Hon-zip-fa  were  left  in  charge  of  the 
horses  and  the  camp,  while  the  others  took  lariats, 
bows,  and  quivers  well  filled  with  arrows,  and  started 
out  on  foot  in  search  of  horses.  When  Indians  go 
out  in  search  of  scalps  they  ride  their  fleetest  horses, 
but  on  a horse  stealing  expedition,  they  ride  their 
slowest,  laziest  horses,  and  if  they  hope  to  find  them 
near,  they  often  go  afoot. 

Andres  and  those  left  behind  made  their  camp  about 
four  miles  from  the  lake,  lest  other  marauding  bands, 
coming  for  water  and  discovering  them,  should  fall 
upon  them.  But  one  of  the  band,  from  a hidden 
place,  kept  watch  each  day  over  the  lake  to  see  who 
came  there  and  to  give  warning  of  any  approach  in 
their  direction.  After  night  settled  down  they  would 
drive  their  stock  to  the  lake  and  take  the  pack  mules 
with  the  water  j ugs  each  day . 

Their  water  j ugs  were  made  of  the  beef  or  buffalo 
paunch.  When  a jug  is  needed,  a beef  or  buffalo  is 


An  dele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  51 

killed,  the  paunch  is  taken  out  and  cut  open,  the 
rough  inner  lining  is  removed,  the  paunch  is  dried, 
and  the  edges  are  pinned  together  with  smooth, 
wooden  pins,  which  bring  it  together,  looking,  when 
filled  with  water,  ver3T  much  like  a large,  short-neck 
gourd.  Two  of  these  are  filled  with  water  and  placed 
across  a pack  saddle  and  carried  sometimes  long  dis- 
tances. 

After  a week  the  Kiowas  began  to  return,  but  with- 
out any  horses,  looking  defeated  and  forlorn.  Their 
“ medicine  ” had  failed  them.  There  was  something 
wrong.  They  waited  in  silence  for  the  return  of  the 
rest  of  the  band.  Several  days  more  passed,  and  yet 
Heap  O’  Bears,  Big  Bow,  Napawat,  and  Santiago  had 
not  returned. 

The  band  grew  uneasy, but  continued  to  wait.  Two 
more  days  passed  away  with  increasing  anxiety,  when, 
just  as  the  sun  was  dropping  out  of  sight  and  the 
Indians  were  preparing  to  “make  medicine’’  to  ascer- 
tain the  fate  of  their  comrades,  they  hear  in  the  dis- 
tance the  wild,  weird  song  of  coming  victors.  It  was 
the  song  of  triumph,  discordant  and  wild  as  the 
howling  of  demons  from  the  lost  world.  An  answer- 
ing shout  went  up  from  the  camp,  and  strange  as  it 
may  seem,  the  missing  four  came  in  from  different 


52  Andele , or  The  Mexican-Kioiva  Captive. 

directions,  each  bringing  in  a considerable  herd  of 
horses.  Instead  of  a night  of  mournful  worship,  as 
had  been  intended,  the  night  was  passed  in  wild  feast- 
ing and  savage  joke. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


Kiowas  Reach  Home.  The  Big  Medicine  Dance. 

After  a day’s  rest,  the  band  broke  camp  and  started 
for  home.  It  had  now  been  more  than  eig'ht  moons 
since  they  started  on  this  expedition,  and  it  would 
take  not  less  than  two  moons  more  to  reach  their  home, 
awaj~  to  the  northeast  on  the  Washita.  Bending  their 
way  as  expeditiously  as  possible,  they  came,  after 
several  days , to  Rock  River.  A big  snow  had  fallen 
and  it  would  be  slow  traveling  for  a time.  A consul- 
tation was  called  one  morning,  and  it  was  decided,  as 
the}7  were  now  out  of  probable  danger  from  pursuit 
or  attack  from  an  enemy,  and  there  was  none 
between  them  and  home,  that  those  who  could  travel 
faster  should  go  on  in  order  that  their  people, 
who  must  by  this  time  be  getting  quite  uneasy,  might 
know  that  all  was  well.  Heap  O’  Bears,  Stumbling 
Bear  and  To-hor-sin,  the  three  chiefs,  with  the  larger 
portion  of  the  band,  therefore  hurried  on,  but  left 
sufficient  force  to  bring  on  the  stolen  stock.  Andres 
and  Somtottleti  were  put  in  charge  of  Heap  O’  Bears’ 
horses,  and,  both  being  Mexican  captives,  soon 

53 


54  Ajidele,  oi'  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive. 

became  fast  friends  and  remained  so  ever  after.  Pai-ti 
drove  Big  Bow’s  horses. 

After  traveling  slowly  along  for  several  days,  one 
day,  reaching  the  summit  of  a rise  in  the  prairie,  they 
were  confronted  by  a vast  herd  of  buffalo.  Stretching 
northward  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  the  whole  prairie 
was  black  with  them.  They  had  not  been  hunted 
enough  to  be  wild,  and  the  Kiowas  drove  unnoticed 
right  into  their  midst.  For  days  they  traveled  sur- 
rounded by  the  buffalo.  They  killed  several  every 
day  before  halting  for  the  night,  and  cut  out  choice 
pieces  of  the  flesh  for  cooking,  but  always  consuming 
the  liver  and  kidneys  raw,  with  a portion  of  the 
paunch  and  entrails  before  leaving  the  carcass.  These 
were  Always  considered  choice  and  delicate  bits. 

It  was  the  custom  among  these  Indians  from  early 
spring  till  July,  to  kill  buffalo  to  get  their  hides  for 
tepee  covers.  The  hair  was  too  short  for  robes,  but 
later  in  the  season,  when  the  hair  was  long  and  nappy, 
they  killed  them  for  the  purpose  of  making  robes  of 
the  hides  and  storing  away  the  meat,  while  it  was  fat, 
for  the  winter.  For  a small  tepee,  about  eight  buffalo 
hides  were  used.  For  the  ordinary  size,  twelve  were 
used,  but  sometimes  the  head  chief  used  as  many  as 
twenty,  thus  making  a very  large  tepee,  or  wigwam, 


Andel e,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  55 

twenty -five  or  thirty  feet  in  diameter.  These  hides 
intended  for  the  wigwam  are  dressed  on  both  sides 
by  the  squaws.  They  scrape  off  the  hair  on  the 
outside,  and  the  inner,  fleshy  lining  on  the  inside 
by  a tedious  process  with  bone  instruments  man- 
ufactured from  the  larger  bones  of  the  buffalo  or 

O 

beef.  Later,  when  they  could  get  iron,  these  instru- 
ments were  made  of  iron.  It  took  much  labor  and  a 
long  while  to  dress  the  hides  in  this  way,  but  when 
done,  they  were  as  pliant  as  any  leather  manufactured 
after  our  most  improved  process.  The  hides  intended 
for  robes  are  of  course  dressed  only  on  the  inner  side, 
but  they  are  made  very  pliant  and  comfortable. 

When  a boy  or  girl  grows  up  to  sufficient  size  and 
age,  a Pa-lo-tle-ton  is  set  apart  for  his  or  her  exclusive 
use.  This  is  a buffalo  robe,  neatly  dressed,  made  of 
a full  skin,  with  the  head  fastened  by  the  lips  to  the 
head  of  their  lounge-like,  willow  beds.  The  young 
people,  the  boys  especially,  enjoy  special  privileges  and 
attentions  when  they  are  fifteen  or  sixteen  years  of 
age.  Thejr  have  their  own  way  and  they  control  the 
household.  The  on-ta-koi  is  the  ordinary  robe  for  the 
bed.  It  is  only  a half  robe,  and  cut  off  also  at  the 
neck.  The  hide  for  the  pa-lo-tle-ton  is  carefulljr  taken 
off,  with  all  the  skill  of  the  taxidermist,  so  as  to  pre- 


56  Andcle , or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive. 

serve  the  full  covering  of  the  head,  with  even  the 
horns  and  eyes  and  ears  and  lips,  and  also  the  legs 
down  to  the  hoofs,  and  sometimes  even  the  hoofs  are 
retained. 

After  many  days’  travel  through  the  buffalo,  the 
band  had  secured  enough  hides  to  supply  the  fullest 
demand  for  wigwams  or  tepees,  for  every  pack  mule  or 
horse  was  loaded  down  and  could  carry  no  more. 

Nearly  three  months  had  now  elapsed  since  the 
Kiowas  had  started  on  .their  homeward  march,  and 
they  had  reached  Red  River,  which  they  crossed  where 
now  is  located  Ouannah,  Texas.  They  had  encoun- 
tered, during  all  this  time,  no  one,  save  a band  of 
friendly  Ouojale  Comanches.  After  crossing  Red 
River,  they  pushed  on  more  rapidly  than  before,  and 
soon  reached  the  Washita,  where  their  people  were 
camped . The  squaws  seeing  them  approaching,  rushed 
out  to  meet  them  and  raised  the  war  cry,  as  was  their 
custom  when  a band  of  warriors  was  returning  home. 
All  was  strange  and  wild  to  Andres,  but  he  felt  per- 
fectly at  home,  as  the  Kiowas  had  been  very  kind  to 
him  and  given  him  all  the  rights  that  belonged  to  one 
of  their  own  number. 

There  wrere  a great  many  tepees  in  this  camp,  and 
Andres  was  anxious  to  see  on  the  inside,  as  he  had 


Andele , or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  57 

never  yet  been  in  one  intended  for  a whole  family- 
But  first  he  started  to  unsaddle  his  little  mule,  but  a 
squaw  pushed  him  aside  and  unsaddled  the  mule  her- 
self. Andres  looked  at  her  in  astonishment,  and  was 
about  to  resent  it,  when  he  discovered  that  the  squaws 
were  attending  to  all  the  stock,  both  unpacking  and 
hobbling  them  out  upon  the  prairie.  This  was  the 
Indian  custom,  but  not  according  to  the  polite  Span- 
ish manners  taught  him  by  his  mother.  He  submit- 
ted, however,  and  turned  to  enter  a tepee,  when 
another  squaw  pulled  him  abruptly  back.  This  time 
he  felt  offended  and  made  some  resistance,  but  the 
squaw  was  too  much  for  him  and  he  had  to  give  up. 
He  went,  however,  to  Santiago  to  know  why  he  was 
not  allowed  to  go  into  the  tepee. 

“ Pull  off  your  quiver  and  other  war  implements,” 
said  Santiago,  laughing.  ‘‘No  warrior  is  allowed  to 
enter  a peaceful  home  with  accoutrements  of  war  and 
plunder  on,  and  you  look  too  warlike.” 

This  speech  made  Andres  feel  very  much  larger, 
but  he  soon  divested  himself  of  his  quiver  and  war- 
like bow,  and,  together  with  Santiago,  entered  a tepee. 
The  bows  and  quivers  and  buffalo  skins  were  all 
turned  over  to  the  squaws,  whose  business  it  was  to- 
keep  everything  at  hand  ready  for  use. 


58  Andele , or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

Andres  watched  everything  with  profound  interest, 
and  he  took  on  the  Kiowa  ways  very  rapidly.  Oppor- 
tunity was  soon  given  for  becoming  a convert  to  their 
superstitious  worship,  and  engaging  in  their  dissipating 
amusements,  for  they  had  been  in  camp  only  a few 
days  when,  suddenly,  he  discovered  the  whole  camp 
in  a stir  and  commotion.  The  tepees  were  all  taken 
down,  and,  together  with  the  blankets  and  buffalo 
robes,  were  rolled  up  and  placed  upon  the  pack  horses, 
while  the  tepee  poles  were  tied  at  one  end,  half  a 
dozen  on  a side,  to  a rope  around  the  neck  of  a pack 
horse,  while  the  rear  end  dragged  upon  the  ground. 
In  a remarkably  short  time  the  whole  camp  was 
deserted,  and  the  whole  band  was  on  the  march.  The 
time  of  the  annual  dance  had  come  and  they  were 
getting  ready  for  it,  and  since  the  return  of  all  the 
warrior-bands  without  hurt,  they  must  worship  and 
make  sacrifice  to  their  idol  gods,  lest  they  be  angry 
and  give  them  no  further  success. 

Grand  preparations  were  going  on.  Heap  O'  Bears 
had  made  a circuit  of  the  tepees  of  the  whole  Kiowa 
tribe,  for  it  was  to  be  a grand  occasion.  It  was  the  cus- 
tom for  the  chief  “medicine  man,”  when  the  time  of 
this  annual  worship  drew  near,  to  hang  his  ‘ ‘medicine’  ’ 
or  idol  around  his  neck,  tie  a representation  of  it  to 


Andele,  or  The  M exican-Kiowa  Captive.  59 

his  saddle,  and  circle  every  tepee  whose  occupants  he 
wished  at  the  dance,  and  all  those  who  were  thus  cir- 
cled were  bound  by  every  sacred  obligation  to  go, 
under  threat  of  heavy  penalty;  for  if  they  refused  to 
attend,  some  great  disaster  would  be  visited  upon  them 
by  the  idol  during  the  year.  If  any  tepees  are  left  out 
by  the  medicine  man  in  his  rounds,  either  by  accident 
or  with  intention,  the  inmates  were  sure  to  suffer  great 
evils  during  the  year. 

The  medicine  chief,  before  starting  out  on  this  cir- 
cuit, always  paints  himself  white  from  head  to  foot, 
and  the  only  garment  he  wears  is  a buffalo  robe  thrown 
over  his  shoulders.  He  neither  eats  nor  drinks  till  he 
has  circled  all  the  tepees,  unless  it  takes  more  than 
four  days,  in  which  case  he  is  at  liberty  at  the  end 
of  four  days  to  stop  on  his  way  and  build  a ‘ 1 sweat 
house”  and  worship,  and  then  partake  of  food  and 
drink,  after  which,  being  refreshed,  he  goes  on  his 
journey  till  he  has  circled  every  tepee  of  his  tribe. 

It  may  be  interesting  here  to  tell  what  a ‘ 1 sweat 
house”  is.  It  is  built  of  slender  poles,  usually  wil- 
low, about  two  inches  in  diameter,  which  are  stuck 
into  the  ground  in  a circle  about  six  feet  across, 
and  then  bent  together  at  the  top  and  tied,  thus  form- 
ing a dome-shaped  structure,  which  is  covered  with 


60  Andele , or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive. 

buffalo  robes  and  blankets,  making  it  as  near  air-tight 
as  possible.  This  makes  a tepee,  or  medicine  house, 
about  four  or  five  feet  high.  The  ground  on  the  inside 
of  this  booth  is  covered  with  a thick  coating  of  prairie 
sage  gathered  around  here  and  there  on  the  prairie. 
This  plant  the  Indians  have  special  reverence  for  as 
having  special  and  mysterious  powers,  and  it  figures 
very  largely  in  all  their  superstitious  worship.  In  the 
center  of  this  medicine,  or  sweat  house,  a hole  about 
• six  inches  deep  and  a foot  in  diameter  is  dug.  The 
'“medicine  man”  takes  into  this  place  his  idol,  or 
medicine  charm,  a bucket  of  water,  and  an  eagle 
feather  fan.  The  eagle  feathers  are  also  held  in  special 
reverence  and  are  supposed  to  have  peculiar  power  in 
-sickness  and  in  war.  Hence  they  use  a bunch  of  eagle 
feathers  over  the  sick  in  their  superstitious  rites,  and 
their  war  bonnets  are  made  of  eagle  feathers. 

Rocks  are  heated  in  a fire  built  near  the  sweat  house, 
and  then  taken  and  placed  in  the  hole  in  the  center. 
The  chief  medicine  man  with  all  the  worshipers  goes 
in,  the  robes  are  tucked  down  securely,  so  that  no  heat 
can  escape,  and  but  little  air  can  get  in.  The  bucket 
of  water  is  then  poured  upon  the  hot  rocks,  and  the 
worshipers  lie  down  or  sit  around  in  a cramped  posi- 
tion. The  steam  arising  from  the  seething  rocks  soon 


An  dele,  or  The  Mexica?i-Kiowa  Captive.  61 

causes  the  perspiration  to  pour  off  the  worshipers  in 
great  profusion,  when  their  weird  incantations  begin. 
No  one  is  allowed  to  use  a fan  till  the  chief  medicine 
man  has  gone  through  the  first  act  of  worship,  calling 
all  the  while  upon  his  grandfather,  “kon-kea,  kon- 
kea,  kon-kea,”  in  continued  repetition,  accompamdng 
his  voice  with  the  well-timed  motion  of  the  eagle 
feather  fan.  It  would  be  a sacrilege  to  use  any  other 
kind  of  feathers.  After  this  first  act  by  the  chief,  all 
the  others  may  begin  chanting  and  fanning  and  calling 
upon  their  idols  and  their  dead  ancestors.  After  this 
sweating,  worshiping  process  is  through,  the  worship- 
ers make  whatever  offering  is  required,  and  the  worship 
is  ended. 

The  sweat  house  is  used  also  in  case  of  sickness 
wdthout  the  worship.  The  sick  person  is  placed  in  the 
booth,  the  water  poured  on  the  hot  rocks,  and  when  the 
pores  of  the  skin  are  expanded,  and  the  perspiration  is 
pouring  from  every  heated  opening,  he  rushes  out  of  the 
sweat  house  and  plunges  into  the  river.  This  either 
kills  or  cures.  In  some  cases  it  cures,  in  many  it  kills. 

The  “medicine”  of  which  mention  is  so  often 
made,  is  the  idol  or  image  that  the  Indian  worships. 
This  consists  of  a little  rock  image  with  its  face 
painted  with  a solid  coat  of  yellow,  and  on  this  yellow 


62 


Andele , or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

background  are  alternate  stripes  of  red  and  black 
drawn  down  in  zigzag  course,  radiating  from  eyes  and 
mouth.  This  image,  when  the  Indians  are  not  on  the 
march,  is  hung  up  on  the  back  of  the  tepee  in  a sack  of 
buckskin  made  for  the  purpose . On  the  inside  is  another 
similar  sack,  hung  on  the  west  side  of  the  tepee,  con- 
taining scalps,  paints,  rattles,  medicine  charms  of 
various  kinds,  which  superstition  has  led  them  to 
gather  from  time  to  time 

After  the  medicine  man  has  made  the  circuit  of  all 
the  tepees  and  has  returned  to  his  own,  the  Indians 
break  camp,  and,  gathering  from  all  directions,  come 
together  at  one  place.  This  was  the  grand  move  that 
first  attracted  Andres’  attention  after  reaching  his 
adopted  home. 

On  this  first  move,  Etonbo,  Heap  O'  Bears’  daugh- 
ter, who  afterward  married  Zilka,  took  Andres  to  her 
home  and  bosom  to  be  her  son.  He  lived  with  her 
till  the  death  of  Heap  O’  Bears,  and  she  was  ever 
kind  and  affectionate  as  a mother  to  Andres. 

After  the  tribe  had  all  come  together  and  settled 
down,  the  four  chief  medicine  men  got  together,  made 
an  offering  of  some  kind  and  then  selected  a tree,  straight 
and  sleek,  which  was  to  be  cut  for  the  post  around 
which  to  dance,  and  to  which  they  were  to  tie  the 


Andele , or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive.  63 

buffalo.  The  order  was  as  follows:  They  select  a 
good  level  place  near  the  timber  and  water.  The 
medicine  men  then  return  and  send  out  messengers  to 
announce  that  the  place  has  been  selected,  and  all 
things  are  ready.  But  if  no  place  has  been  selected, 
it  is  so  announced,  and  another  effort  is  made  by  the 
medicine  men  going  through  the  same  form  of  worship 
as  before.  But  before  the  medicine  men  make  this 
second  effort,  the  whole  camp  must  move  to  another 
place  designated  by  them.  At  last,  when  a place  has 
been  decided  upon  and  so  announced,  the  dog  soldiers 
get  together,  paint  their  faces  and  bodies,  shout  out 
the  signal,  beat  their  tom-toms,  and  make  the  sur- 
roundings a perfect  pandemonium.  On  the  next  day, 
the  crowd , read}-  and  excited  by  this  time,  begin  their 
approach  towards  the  consecrated  spot  selected  for 
their  worship.  The  chief  medicine  man  leads;  his 
wife,  carrying  the  chief  idol,  following  close  by  his 
side.  The  captive  Mexicans  come  next  and  then  the 
twelve  chosen  medicine  men  follow  with  signs  and 
symbols  of  superstitious  worship,  and  at  the  last  the 
great  multitude,  with  the  dog  soldiers  on  either  side 
as  out  riders.  They  go  a certain  distance,  then  halt 
and  worship.  This  is  repeated  four  times,  and  at  the 
last  halt  an  old  Indian,  noted  for  his  age  and  wisdom, 


64  Andele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

steps  forth  and  announces  to  the  crowd,  expectant  and 
eager,  that  when  the  word  is  given,  the  first  one  who 
reaches  and  knocks  down  yonder  pole  upon  the  conse- 
crated ground,  nearly  a mile  away,  shall  be  endowed 
with  special  privileges  and  honors,  and  peculiar  bless- 
ings shall  come  to  his  band  of  dog  soldiers  during  the 
year.  As  soon  as  this  announcement  is  ended,  and  the 
signal  is  given,  a wild,  mad,  tumultuous  rush  is  made 
in  reckless  abandon  as  to  personal  safety,  or  the  safety 
of  anyone  else. 

There  are  four  honors,  the  first  one  reaching  the 
pole  taking  the  chief  one,  and  the  others  in  the  order 
in  which  they  come.  After  this  rush  is  over,  the  cir- 
cle is  formed.  Within  the  circle  at  the  west  side  is 
located  the  “medicine  tepee,’’  into  which  the  idol 
image  is  carried,  and  in  which  the  “medicine  man” 
remains  the  four  days  of  the  dance.  Early  next  morn- 
ing a captive  Mexican  woman,  accompanied  by  the 
dog  soldiers,  is  sent  out  to  cut  the  tree  that  has  been 
selected.  They  approach  the  tree,  halting  ana  wor- 
shiping four  times  before  reaching  it;  then  the  Mexi- 
can woman  strikes  one  blow  with  the  axe  and  stops, 
when  she  and  the  soldiers  again  sing  and  pray;  then 
another  stroke  followed  by  worship,  and  on  till  the 
tree  is  cut  down.  The  dog  soldiers  then  rope  the  tree, 


SUN  DANCE 


Andele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  65 

and  by  the  four-fold  method  of  approach  and  worship 
carry  it  to  the  grounds  and  put  it  into  its  place  in  the 
center  of  the  circle.  "While  this  is  going  on,  the  great 
crowds  are  gathering  together  poles  and  limbs  of  trees, 
and,  with  much  enthusiasm,  completing  the  arbor  for 
the  dance. 

It  takes  about  four  days  to  complete  the  whole 
arrangement.  When  everything  is  ready,  those  who 
dance  go  outside  the  circle,  strip  themselves  of  all 
clothing  except  the  breech  clout,  paint  their  bodies 
white,  dress  in  a buffalo  skin,  and  finally  go  in, 
making  the  noise  of  the  wild  buffalo  bull.  They 
circle  around  the  medicine  man’s  tepee  four  times, 
then  go  back  to  the  entrance  of  the  large  circle,  then 
to  the  entrance  to  the  arbor  around  the  center  pole, 
circling  this  arbor  four  times,  each  time  motioning  to 
enter,  but  not  entering  till  the  fourth  time.  ' 

They  then  take  their  places  in  the  dance  circle.  The 
medicine  man  steps  forth  from  his  lodge,  circles  around 
four  times,  as  did  the  dancers,  and  entering,  hangs  the 
idol  upon  the  pole,  and  takes  his  place  in  the  lodge 
behind  the  idol.  The  musicians  go  through  the  same 
performance,  and  take  their  place  near  the  entrance, 
just  inside  the  lodge.  The  musicians  begin  their 
monotonous  music  with  tom-tom  and  rattle-gourd, 


66  Andele , or  The  Mcxican-Kiowa  Captive. 

when  the  medicine  man  steps  forth,  perfectly  nude 
except  his  buckskin  breech  clout,  the  ends  of  which 
are  drawn  up  before  and  behind  through  a panther 
skin  belt  around  his  waist,  and,  hanging  down  between 
his  painted  legs,  keep  time  in  resultant  motion  with 
the  movements  of  the  medicine  man  and  the  wild 
freaks  of  the  prairie  winds.  His  body,  instead  of 
being  painted  white,  as  the  common  dancers,  is  painted 
yellow,  while  his  feet  are  painted  black.  Bunches  of 
prairie  sage  are  tied  to  his  wrists  and  ankles,  and  he 
wears  upon  his  head  a jack  rabbit  bonnet.  In  one 
hand  he  carries  a bunch,  or  fan,  of  crow  feathers, 
called  the  ’ Tsine-ke-ah-lah,  and  in  the  other,  a whistle 
made  of  an  eagle  bone. 

He  goes  up  to  the  image,  takes  into  his  mouth,  as  he 
worships,  a bit  of  root  of  some  wild  plant,  grinding  it  in- 
his  teeth,  turns  to  the  circle  of  dancers  and  goes  round 
spitting  and  blowing  it  out  upon  them.  He  next  takes 
his  eagle-bone  whistle  and  runs  around  the  circle  blow- 
ing it  with  all  his  might.  He  goes  through  this  perform- 
ance four  times  before  the  way  is  open  for  the  common 
dancers.  The  eager  crowd  then  begin  their  wild  per- 
formance, singing,  leaping,  yelling,  praying,  till  out  of 
breath.  They  then  rest  awhile,  but  soon  begin  again. 
They  stare  at  the  image,  hooting  and  howling  in  the 


Andele , or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive.  67 


wildest  manner,  then  at  the  sun,  in  a wild,  foolish, 
fixed,  idiotic  stare,  and  cry  out,  “Yes!  yes!  now  our 
enemy  is  blind.  He  can  do  us  no  hurt.  We  will 
take  his  scalp  and  steal  his  horses,  and  we  will  be 
secure.  ’ ’ 

The  medicine  man,  taking  the  ’tsine-ke-ah-lah,  or 
crow  fan,  calls  the  attention  of  the  dancers,  runs 
around  the  circle  several  times  himself,  then  in  wild 
gyrations  whirls  the  ’tsine-ke-ah-lah  around  and 
around,  while  the  dancers,  fixing  their  gaze  upon  it, 
try  to  keep  eyes  and  heads  in  harmonious  movement 
with  the  motion  of  the  ’tsine-ke-ah-lah,  till  dizzy  and 
exhausted  many  of  them  fall  prostrate  upon  the 
ground  in  apparent  unconsciousness,  hypnotized. 

Thus  they  lie  for  a long  time,  and  often  profess  to 
see  visions  that  indicate  their  future  destiny  in  life. 
If  an  Indian,  during  the  year,  vows  that  he  will  dance 
before  the  idol,  and  don’t  do  it,  some  sure  calamity 
will  befall  him.  An  Indian  arose  one  day  in  a 
camp-meeting  being  held  by  the  Methodist  mis- 
sionaries and  began  wailing.  After  a little  while  he 
stopped  suddenly  and  began  to  talk.  “I  vowed,’’ 
said  he,  “ that  I would  come  here  and  cry  before  your 
God,  for  I believe  he  is  strong  and  can  help  me,  and 
now  I want  to  keep  my  promise  and  fulfill  my  vow; 


68  Andele , o>  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive. 

for  I have  had  much  sickness  and  the  Indian  medicine 
(or  idol)  has  failed  me.  I want  to  turn  to  the  white 
man’s  God,  for  he  is  strong.”  And  then  he  continued 
wailing,  thinking  that  was  the  correct  way  to  get  the 
ear  of  the  white  man’s  God.  He  was  endeavoring  to 
carry  out  the  ways  of  superstition  in  the  worship  of 
the  true  God.  He  wanted  to  pay  his  vow.  He  was 
afraid  not  to  do  it.  He  was  taught  the  way  of  God 
more  perfectly,  and  soon  after  professed  faith  in  Jesus 
and  joined  the  church. 

While  all  these  things  were  going  on,  Andele  was 
looking  on  in  astonishment,  learning  rapidly  the  Indian 
ways  and  absorbing  fast  the  Indian  superstitions.  He 
watched  Heap  O’  Bears,  and  wondered  how  it  was 
possible  for  him  to  do  so  many  wonderful  things.  He 
listened  to  the  crowd  of  howling  dancers  and  hatched 
them  as  they  leaped  around  in  their  nakedness  before 
the  idol.  It  was  all  wild  and  weird  to  him. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


The  Quo-dle-quoit.  Andele  has  a Fight.  The 
Scalp  Dance. 

The  big  dance  was  at  last  over,  and  the  Indians 
broke  up  and  scattered  abroad.  But  before  breaking 
up,  on  the  last  night  of  the  dance,  all  those  who 
expected  to  go  out  on  the  warpath,  or  stealing  and 
plundering  expeditions  during  the  year,  gathered 
around  a buffalo  rawhide,  took  hold  of  it  with  one 
hand,  and  with  small  sticks  in  the  other  beat  upon  it, 
while  they  called  upon  their  idol  to  help  them  and 
bless  them,  thus: 

“O,  Kon-kea-ko-on-to,  O,  Grandfather,  blind  our 
enemies  while  we  creep  upon  them,  keep  them  asleep 
while  we  plunder  them,  help  us  to  get  many  scalps  and 
captives,  and  steal  good  horses,  and  don’t  let  us  get 
hurt.” 

And  thus  they  went  on  beating  the  rawhide,  singing 
and  marching  and  praying,  till  satisfied  with  the  per- 
formance, they  broke  up  to  start  out  in  small  bands  to 
the  various  fields  of  plunder  and  murder.  The  men 
who  did  not  intend  to  go  out  on  these  raids  during  the 


70  Andele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

year  were  not  allowed  to  go  through  this  perform- 
ance, for  it  amounted  to  a pledge  to  join  in  some 
marauding  expedition. 

The  Quo-dle-quoit  constitute  a privileged  class 
among  the  Kiowas.  It  is  an  honor  or  privilege  that 
is  transmissible,  and  no  one  can  be  Ouo-dle-quoit 
longer  than  four  years,  when  a successor  must  be 
selected.  Each  Quo-dle-quoit  selects  his  own  suc- 
cessor, who  must  of  necessity  accept  the  honor  and 
submit  to  be  painted  after  the  manner  of  the  Quo-dle- 
quoit,  which  is  as  follows:  Around  the  forehead, 
at  the  edge  of  the  hair,  are  parallel  streaks  of  black, 
and  these  are  continued  around  the  face  and  drawn 
down  under  the  chin.  On  each  cheek  bone  is  the 
picture  of  the  moon  very  far  advanced  in  crescent. 
On  the  center  of  the  chest  is  the  picture  of  the  sun, 
and  on  each  side  of  the  chest,  a little  lower  down,  is 
again  the  crescent,  painted  in  dark  green,  shading  out 
into  a very  light  green  toward  the  open  side  of  the 
crescent  which  is  turned  upward.  The  sun  on  the 
chest  is  also  a light  green,  but  the  whole  body  has  a 
coat  of  solid  yellow  as  a back  ground  to  all  these 
other  ornate  colors. 

The  Quo-dle-quoit  wears  a jack -rabbit  bonnet, 
ornamented  with  the  ears  of  a jack  rabbit  and  with 


Andele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  71 

eagle  feathers.  Instead  of  painting  the  sun  and  moon 
on  the  chest,  they  are  often  cut  into  the  flesh,  leaving 
for  all  time  to  come  great  sun-  and  moon-shaped  scars. 
When  one  is  selected  as  a Ouo-dle-quoit,  and,  accord- 
ing to  custom,  is  painted  up  and  ornamented,  he  must 
pay  his  predecessor  well  for  it,  and  each  year  as  his 
predecessor  paints  and  ornaments  him,  he  is  obliged  to 
pay  an  additional  installment  of  ponies,  blankets, 
robes,  etc.,  for  four  years,  when  his  Quo-dle-quoit 
ceases.  He  must  then  in  turn  transfer  it  to  some 
friend  and  receive  remuneration  from  him  in  like  man- 
ner as  he  had  to  give  to  his  predecessor. 

This  works  oppressively  sometimes,  but  no  one 
dare  refuse  to  become  a Ouo-dle-quoit  when  once 
selected.  The  Quo-dle-quoit  never  looks  into  a mirror 
of  any  kind.  He  dare  not  see  himself.  He  is  denied 
the  privilege  of  eating  dog,  or  polecat,  or  of  being 
around  the  fire  where  cooking  is  done,  or  enter  a 
tepee  where  a dog  is.  There  are  many  other  things 
denied  him,  but  he  enjoys  security  in  war.  No  weapon 
of  war  can  hurt  him;  he  is  secure. 

The  morning  after  this  first  big  dance  the  men  all 
scattered  abroad  in  various  directions.  Andres  was 
left  with  the  women.  They  had  all  learned  to  like 
him.  At  the  first  he  was  kindly  received.  His 


72  Andele , or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

adopted  mother  had  made  some  clothes  for  him,  even 
before  he  had  reached  the  Kiowa  settlement.  Santi- 
ago’s wife,  who  was  Heap  0’  Bears’  sister-in-law, 
carried  him  first  to  her  camp.  He  felt  free  and  did  as 
he  pleased.  He  was  the  adopted  grandson  of  the 
chief,  and  he  had  been  instructed  to  resent  any 
attacks  made  upon  him  by  the  Indian  boys. 

During  Heap  O’  Bears’  first  absence,  he  suffered 
somewhat  from  the  boys  who  had  become  jealous  of 
him  on  account  of  the  favor  shown  him,  a captive, 
but  he  soOn  had  an  opportunity  of  showing  them 
that  he  was  able  and  ready  to  take  care  of  himself.  It 
was  during  a scalp  dance  after  Heap  O’  Bears’  return. 
He  had  been  gone  about  two  months  when  he  returned 
with  two  scalps,  that  of  a negro  and  a Ute  Indian. 

The  scalp  dance  is  a grim  performance  and  gener- 
ally lasts  about  three  weeks,  and  they  dance  night  and 
dajr.  No  man  is  allowed  to  dance  who  was  not  in  the 
fight  when  the  scalps  were  taken.  But  all  the  women 
are  privileged  to  dance.  If  no  scalps  are  taken,  or 
one  of  the  band  is  killed,  no  dance  is  held;  but  when 
they  return  with  scalps  a grand  jubilee  is  held.  When 
a successful  band  is  approaching  home,  they  slip  up 
stealthily  until  near  by,  when  suddenlythey  raise  the 
war-whoop  and  charge  upon  their  own  home,  which 


Andele , or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  73 

creates  a panic  till  they  are  discovered  to  be  friends 
instead  of  enemies,  and  instantly  a responsive  war- 
whoop  is  given  by  the  wives  and  mothers,  and  prepa- 
rations begin  at  once  for  the  dance. 

They  hang  the  scalps  upon  a pole,  while  they  go 
dancing  in  a circle  around  it,  singing  and  beating  the 
tom-tom,  and  all  the  while  calling  in  tantalizing  jeer 
to  each  of  the  dead  men:  “Poor  fellow,  he  tried  to 
save  his  life,  but  look  at  his  scalp!  He  cried  aloud, 
but  we  only  laughed.  We  shot  him  through  the 
heart.  He  fought  hard,  but  we  overcame,  and  his 
scalp  looks  beautiful  hanging  there.  Our  medicine 
made  him  blind  while  we  killed  him.” 

While  going  through  this  performance  they  con- 
stantly shout  out  the  praises  of  the  men  who  took  the 
scalps.  They  are  the  heroes  of  the  occasion.  In  all 
this  wild,  weird  performance  the  squaws  show  the 
greater  fierceness  and  devilish  joy. 

After  the  dance  is  over  they  offer  the  scalps  to  the 
sun,  or  sometimes  to  some  particular  idol  to  which 
they  had  made  promise  before  going  out  to  war.  When 
they  make  the  offering  to  the  sun  (or  some  idol),  they 
pray:  “O,  Sun,  give  us  power  to  get  other  scalps. 
Give  us  long  life  and  make  us  brave  chiefs.  Keep 
our  enemies  blind  and  deaf  so  they  will  not  detect  our 


74  Andcle , o?'  The  Mexican- Kioiva  Captive. 

stealth y approach.”  Often  they  keep  the  scalps  to  tie 
to  their  medicine  charms  and  to  grace  their  belts. 

At  these  scalp  dances  the  boys  are  allowed  the  full- 
est liberty,  and  encouraged  to  take  part  in,  and  enjoy, 
the  hideous  performance.  It  was  at  this  scalp  dance, 
upon  the  return  of  Heap  O’  Bears,  that  Andres  gave 
evidence  of  his  purpose  to  defend  himself.  While 
the  dancing  was  going  on  one  night,  he  and  other 
boys,  dressed  in  buffalo  robes,  were  running  through 
the  circle  and  jumping  over  the  fire  in  the  center  and 
bellowing  like  a mad  buffalo,  when  suddenly  he  and 
Pakea  collided  as  they  met  in  the  center.  They  both, 
with  bruised  heads,  fell  backward.  After  they  had 
recovered  from  the  shock,  and  were  on  the  outside  of 
the  circle,  Pakea,  rvhile  Andres  was  not  aware  of  his 
intention,  or  even  of  his  being  angry,  struck  him  a 
blow  that  nearly  felled  him  to  the  ground. 

Pie  arose  with  all  the  fire  of  his  Spanish  blood 
stirred  to  the  utmost,  and  began  a fight  that  must 
decide  his  standing  among  the  Indians  in  the  future. 
If  he  was  overcome  by  Pakea,  then  he  would  be 
the  butt  of  ridicule  and  contempt  and  imposition. 
But  if  he  overcame,  he  would  stand  as  a respected 
chief  among  the  boys,  and  be  an  object  of  admiration 
among  the  old  people.  Indians  have  great  respect  for 


OUO-DLE-OUOIT. 


■ 


Andclc , or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive.  75 

the  one  who  wins  in  a fight,  whether  the  winner  be  of 
their  own  race,  their  friend  or  foe,  and  so  this  fight 
meant  much  to  Andres.  He  was  determined  to  win, 
and  so  he  put  his  whole  heart  and  muscle  into  it,  and 
in  the  very  first  onset  he  struck  Pakea  such  a blow  as 
caused  a wail  from  him  that  indicated  the  result  at 
once,  and  when  the  Indian  dancers,  who  had  suspended 
dancing  for  a moment  to  look  on,  saw  what  the  result 
was,  they  cried  out,  “ Ziddlebe  Andele,”  that  is, 
“brave  and  dangerous  Andele.”  Some  touched  him 
on  the  breast  and  on  the  back  muttering  out  some 
exclamations  of  approval  and  admiration.  It  was  a 
victory  that  became  an  epoch  in  his  Indian  life.  From 
henceforth  he  had  no  more  trouble. 

If  an  Indian  band  who  has  been  out  on  a maraud- 
ing expedition  returns  without  scalps,  there  is  no 
dance.  If  one  of  the  number  has  been  killed,  there 
is  wailing  and  lamentation,  and  very  soon  the  chief 
who  was  leading  the  band  must  go  in  search  of  the 
tribe  or  people  who  did  the  killing  and  get  a scalp. 
If  he  fails,  he  must  very  soon  go  again,  and  again, 
till  he  succeeds.  He  goes  to  the  spot  where  his  com- 
rade was  killed  and  begins  his  search.  He  paints  his 
face  a shining  black,  something  like  a stove  polish 
color.  He  throws  away  his  mourning  apparel,  and 


76  Audele , or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

goes  forth,  not  as  a mourner,  but  as  a proud  warrior. 
In  carrying  out  this  principle  of  retaliation  one  can 
readily  see  why  the  Indian  tribes  were  in  constant  or 
continuous  war  with  each  other. 

On  a certain  occasion,  Andres,  with  a considerable 
band  of  Indians,  obtained  permission  from  the  gov- 
ernment agent  at  Anadarko  to  hunt  upon  some  of  the 
unoccupied  lauds  of  West  Texas.  While  they  were 
there  hunting  a company  of  Texas  Rangers  came  upon 
them,  killed  one  of  their  number,  scalped  him,  cut 
his  finger  off  and  left  him.  The  Indians  hurried  back 
to  their  own  reservation,  stated  to  the  Indian  United 
States  Agent  what  had  occurred,  and  demanded  of  the 
agent  that  they  be  permitted  to  go  again  to  Texas  and 
kill  a Texas  man  in  revenge.  Whether  the  agent 
through  fear  for  his  own  scalp  gave  his  consent,  it  is  not 
known,  but  the  Indians  did  go  and  in  a little  while 
returned  with  the  scalp  of  a hated  Texan,  held  a big 
scalp  dance  and  were  satisfied.  After  an  Indian  has 
been  killed,  the  daily  mourning  is  kept  up  till  scalps  of 
the  enemy  are  secured,  and  then  the  mourning  ceases. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


Heap  O’  Bears  is  Killed  by  the  Utes,  and  is 
Scalped.  Somtotleti  dies  with  him. 

Three  years  had  now  elapsed  since  Andres  had  been 
stolen  near  Las  Vegas.  It  was  the  spring  of  1869. 
Andele  had  become  a veritable  Indian  with  but  little 
trace  of  civilized  life  left  in  him.  He  had  learned 
many  things  of  the  Indian  life,  and  had  accepted  them 
all.  The  annual  sun  dance  had  been  held,  when  Heap 
O'  Bears,  with  his  band  of  Kiowa  dog  soldiers  and 
allied  bands  of  Comanches,  Arapahoes  and  Cheyennes, 
started  westward  on  an  expedition  against  the  Utes, 
against  whom  Heap  O’  Bears,  on  account  of  past  of- 
fenses, had  a “bad  spirit.’’  He  hoped,  with  the  aid 
of  his  allies,  to  give  them  a blow  from  which  they 
would  never  recover. 

Passing  on  westward  after  three  days’  travel,  and 

coming  to  a mountain  pass  through  which  ran  a small 

mountain  stream,  a fierce  bear,  with  swift  gait  and 

seeming  fright,  came  towards  them  from  the  windward, 

and  circling  around  them  passed  out  of  sight  down  a 

mountain  gorge.  In  a moment  every  Indian  drew 

77 


78  Ande/e,  0 ? The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive. 

rein  and  sat  in  silent  awe.  For  sometime  no  one 
spoke — all  seemed  to  apprehend  that  a dread  calamity 
was  before  them.  Finally  Heap  0’  Bears  broke  the 
silence: 

“Now,  we  started  out  under  ‘strong  medicine,’ 
surely  we  are  not  to  be  forsaken  by  our  god,  but  what 
means  that  Tsaitim  (Bear)  crossing  our  path  to  the 
windward,  and  lifting  himself  as  if  in  warning  of 
future  doom  if  we  go  forward?  But  it  can  not  be,  for 
the  medicine  was  good,  the  signs  were  right.  The 
medicine  said,  ‘go,  kill  Utes.’  We  will  go  forward.’’ 

“Hold,”  said  the  Comanche  leader,  “ your  ‘med- 
icine’ is  broken.  For  some  reason  the  wind  blows 
you  down  and  it  sends  the  Tsaitim  here  from  the 
windward  to  warn  you,  and  whatever  be  the  ‘ med- 
icine ’ you  trust,  the  matter  has  been  given  over  to 
to  other  hands,  and  you  dare  not  go  forward.  If  the 
bear  had  passed  on  the  other  side  of  us,  and  had  not 
raised  those  warning  feet  of  his,  you  would,  with  us 
all,  have  been  safe.  But  you  know  what  it  means 
when  a bear  crosses  a warrior’s  path  to  the  windward.  ’ ’ 

“Umph!  Umph!”  sanctioned  the  respective  leaders 
of  the  Arapahoe  and  Cheyenne  bands. 

“ I dare  not  go  back,”  said  Heap  O’  Bears,  “lest  I 
disobey  and  insult  the  ‘ medicine  ’ that  assures  me  aid 


A?idele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  79 

in  all  my  wars,  and  thus  suffer  punishment  at  his  hands. 
I will  defy  this  new,  and  doubtless  evil  omen,  and  go 
on  any  how,  but  if  you  people  are  afraid,  I will  let  you 
return,  and  I will  go  alone  to  scalp  the  Utes.  The 
squaws  will  doubtless  entertain  you  upon  your  return, 
and  help  you  to  dance  around  the  scalp  of  a jack- 
rabbit  instead  of  a Ute.” 

Heap  O'  Bears  spoke  this  with  much  earnestness 
and  sarcasm,  but  at  the  same  time  betrayed  some  ap- 
prehension on  account  of  the  dilemma  he  was  in. 
The  ComaUche  leader  straightening  himself  full  in  his 
saddle,  and  while  his  eagle  eyes  in  proud  gaze  stared 
upon  Heap  O'Bears,  made  answer: 

“We  are  here,  Heap  O’  Bears,  as  you  well  know 
from  conflicts  with  us  in  the  past,  behind  no  one  in 
courage  and  in  readiness  to  scalp  the  Utes,  but  the 
tsaitim  indicates  that  your  medicine  is  broken  and  your 
doom  sealed  should  you  go  on,  and  we  do  not  wish  to 
see  your  scalp  taken  nor  to  feel  ours  jerked  from  our 
heads  by  the  howling  Utes.  We  can  do  nothing  when 
the  power  of  the  medicine  under  which  we  go  is 
destroyed.  ’ ’ 

Heap  O’  Bears  sat  awhile  in  deep  thought  and  fin- 
ally spoke,  “As  leader  of  this  expedition,  I feel  the 
weight  of  responsibility.  I would  not  see  you  mur- 


So  Andele , or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

dered  through  my  mistake  at  the  hands  of  the  Utes. 
Let  us  camp  here  till  another  sun  comes  up,  perhaps 
new  light  will  come  with  it.  This  night  I will  go 
alone  out  upon  the  mountain  yonder,  and  consult  the 
medicine  and  pray  for  direction,  and  what  I receive 
shall  be  for  our  guidance.” 

‘ ‘ U mph ! U mph ! ’ ’ and  approval  came  from  the  allies . 

So  the  whole  band  moved  down  upon  the  little 
creek  to  camp  for  the  night  and  wait  developments. 
As  night  came  on  Heap  O’  Bears  painted  himself 
white,  having  washed  off  the  black  war  paint,  gave 
instruction  that  no  one  come  near  him  during  the 
night,  went  out  upon  the  mountain  side  and  there  re- 
mained alone  all  night  till  the  earl}'  sun  began  to  peep 
over  the  eastern  hills,  when  he  came  in  with  a revela- 
tion from  his  medicine.  All  listened  with  deep  silence 
as  he  spoke. 

“I  must  go  back  home,”  said  he,  “and  start  again 
after  a short  rest  and  a sacrifice  to  the  medicine.  Let 
the  whole  band  await  me  here.  Seven  suns  will  see  me 
back  again. 

“But  we  must  all  return,”  said  an  Arapahoe. 

‘‘No,  no!”  said  Heap  O'  Bears,  ‘‘for  I find  the 
sign  was  for  me  and  affects  my  people  alone,  and  it  is 
only  necessary  forme  to  return.” 


Andele , or  The  Mexico. n -Kiowa  Captive.  81 

He  was  reluctantly  allowed  to  go  alone.  The 
band  waited  patiently  till  the  evening  of  the  seventh 
day  and  as  they  saw  the  sun  rapidly  sinking  in 
the  west,  they  began  to  grow  anxious.  Their  fears 
were  soon  relieved,  however,  for  just  as  the  last 
lingering  beams  of  the  sinking  sun  were  kissing  a 
departure  to  hilltop  and  boughs,  Heap  O’  Bears  from 
a mountain  pass  came  suddenly  in  sight  of  the  place 
of  encampment. 

“Heap  0’  Bears  comes  ready  for  the  Utes  this 
time,”  said  he,  as  he  neared  the  camp  and  alighted 
from  his  horse.  The  allied  bands  all  received  him 
with  gladness  and  on  the  next  day  they  broke  camp 
and  moved  on  weswtard.  After  a hurried  and  con- 
tinued march  of  three  days,  they  descried  a band  of 
Utes  on  a hill  some  distance  away  watching  them, 
and  while  they  were  consulting  what  to  do,  to  their 
surprise  there  came  from  another  direction  a band  of 
lTtes  sounding  the  warwhoop  and  eager  for  the  fra}7. 
Before  the  allies  could  recover  from  their  surprise,  the 
Utes  were  full  upon  them.  The  allies  whirled  into 
line,  confronting  the  Utes,  when  suddenly  both  sides 
halted,  and  sat  upon  their  horses,  gazing  into  eacli 
others  faces,  neither  side  speaking  a word  nor  otherwise 
breaking  the  silence  for  some  while;  when  at  last  a 


82  An  dele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

young  Kiowa  raised  his  spear  and  struck  a Ute  full  in 
the  face,  and  cried  out  as  he  did  so: 

“If  by  striking  the  first  blow  upon  a hated  Ute  I 
become  chief,  then  am  I chief  now,  for  the  deed  is 
done.  ’ ’ 

This  was  the  signal  for  a general  engagement,  and 
in  a moment  a dozen  lifeless  forms,  pierced  by  arrow 
and  spear,  lay  full  upon  the  ground.  Desperate  was 
the  fight.  The  Utes  seemed  to  know  no  fear.  They 
were  upon  their  own  territory,  and  their  homes  were 
at  stake.  They  closed  in  upon  the  Kiowas.  The  Co- 
manches  were  panic  stricken  and  fled.  The  Arapahoes 
and  Cheyennes  who  were  farther  to  the  left,  seeing  the 
courage  and  desperate  fighting  of  the  Utes,  did  not 
venture  to  the  help  of  the  Kiowas,  but  kept  at  safe 
distance.  Heap  O’  Bears,  becoming  separated  from 
his  band,  was  surrounded  and  pressed  upon  every 
hand. 

“I  shall  die  here,”  he  said.  “I  can  fight,  but  I can 
not  run  and  here  will  I pay  the  penalty  of  my  foolish 
distrust  in  my  medicine  by  turning  back  when  I should 
have  gone  on.  Let  my  braves  leave  me  to  my  fate 
and  save  themselves.” 

The  band  was  rapidly  retreating,  when  Somtotleti 
learned  of  Heap  O’  Bears  danger.  He  rushed  back, 


Andele,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive.  83 

and  declaring  his  purpose  to  die  with  his  friend  and 
chief,  he  forced  his  way  through  the  band  of  Utes  and 
stood  beside  Heap  O’  Bears,  who  was  already  bleeding 
from  several  wounds.  He  shot  one  Ute  from  his 
horse,  and  then  another,  and  still  another,  and  the 
Utes  were  about  to  give  away,  when  they  discovered 
that  Heap  0’  Bears  and  Somtotleti  had  no  more 
arrows.  They  rushed  upon  the  two  helpless  comrades 
with  renewed  fierceness  and  hate,  filled  their  bodies 
with  arrows  and  scalped  them  while  they  were  yet 
gasping.  When  this  was  done  the  Utes  looked  to  find 
the  allied  bands,  but  they  had  retreated  to  a safe  dis- 
tance, and  were  fast  making  their  way  towards  the 
rising  sun  again.  Thus  this  war  was  ended. 


CHAPTER  X. 


Mourning  for  Heap  O’  Bears.  Horrible  Sight. 

Ten  days  had  passed  since  the  battle  with  the  Utes 
and  Heap  O’  Bears’  death.  Night  had  come  on,  and 
the  fierce  prairie  winds,  with  renewed  force,  were 
howling  mournfully  as  they  swept  through  the  village 
of  tepees,  or  wigwams,  at  the  foot  of  the  bluff  near 
the  Washita,  located  there  till  the  braves  should 
return  from  the  Ute  war.  In  much  merriment,  Andele 
and  the  Indian  boys  had  been  going  through  with  a 
mimic  performance  of  “medicine  making,’’  and  he 
had  at  last  lain  down  upon  his  bed  in  the  west  side  of 
the  tepee. 

All  was  quiet.  He  was  not  yet  asleep.  He  was, 
perhaps,  indulging  a faint  thought  of  the  home  from 
which  he  had  been  stolen,  of  the  mother  upon  whose 
loving  bosom  he  had  so  often  been  pillowed  to 
sleep,  of  the  scenes  that  he  had  encountered  since 
he  had  last  seen  her,  of  little  Pedro’s  cruel  death; 
then  of  the  Indians’  wild  dance,  of  the  discordant 
songs  to  which  he  had  listened,  and  wondering,  still 
wondering,  he  had  dropped  into  a half-conscious  sleep. 

84 


HON-ZIP-FA 


• / . 


Andele,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive. 


85 


His  memory  had.  taken  up  the  whole  chain  of  events, 
-and  was  passing  them  before  his  mind  like  a panorama 
in  vivid  colors,  tracing  in  rapid  succession  from  this 
to  that,  when  a thousand  painted  faces,  hideous  and 
wild,  stood  before  him,  and  suddenly  a wild  wail, 
mingling  with  the  mournings  of  the  western  winds  as 
they  swept  over  the  far-stretching  prairie,  came  like 
lamentations  from  some  lost  soul  wandering  from  the 
regions  of  the  dead.  He  sprang  up  in  horror,  and 
trembling  from  head  to  foot,  stood  speechless. 

After  a little  while,  recovering  himself,  he  concluded 
that  it  was  only  a bad  dream,  and  that  it  was  but  the 
night  wind  howling, around  the  wigwam . He  was  just 
in  the  act  of  lying  down  again , when  once  more  he  heard 
the  strange,  wild  wail,  this  time  coming  nearer  and 
nearer  and  more  distinct.  Heap  O'  Bears’  wife  awoke, 
listened  a moment,  and  then  throwing  up  her  hands, 
began  howling  in  accord  with  the  noise  of  the  seem- 
ing demoniacs  approaching  in  the  darkness  of  the 
night.  Andele  was  nearly  dead  with  fright,  but  he 
soon  found  out  that  it  was  the  band  of  warriors  who 
had  gone  to  fight  the  Utes  under  Heap  O’  Bears. 
They  were  returning  without  their  chief,  who  was  left 
lying  back  upon  the  prairie,  scalped  by  the  Utes. 

In  a moment  Heap  O’  Bears’  wife  gathered  up  a 


86  Andele , <?r  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

whetstone  and  a butcherknife  lying  near,  stripped 
herself  perfectly  nude  down  to  the  waist,  raked  the 
knife  back  and  forth  over  the  stone,  and  then  began 
cutting  herself.  She  cut  her  arms  from  the  shoulders 
down  to  her  wrists,  and  gashed  most  horribly  her 
breasts,  and  then  smeared  upon  her  face  the  blood 
that  gushed  forth  from  every  wound. 

Andele  was  horrified  as  he  gazed  upon  her  there  in 
the  dim  light  of  the  cotton  wood  fire.  Heap  O’  Bears’ 
wife,  not  content  with  cutting  her  arms  and  breasts 
and  smearing  the  blood  upon  her  face,  placed  one  of 
her  fingers  upon  a rock  and  asked  a friend  to  chop  it 
off.  And  there  she  stood,  bleeding  and  howling, 
accompanied  with  the  howling  of  all  the  camp  in  such 
discord  as  can  be  portrayed  only  by  emblems  drawn 
from  the  world  of  fiends.  All  night  the  howling  went 
on,  and  next  morning  as  the  sun  came  up,  a great  fire 
was  made  of  all  Heap  O’  Bears’  personal  property  and 
a number  of  ponies  were  killed  for  his  use  in  the 
happy  hunting  ground.  He  was  a chief  and  great 
honor  must  be  done  to  his  memory;  and  besides,  he 
must  have  a chiefs  full  equipage  for  the  hunting 
grounds  beyond. 


CHAPTER  XI. 


War  with  the  U.  S.  Soldiers.  Cheyennes  Sur- 
prised in  a Scalp  Dance. 

According  to  Indian  custom,  Sunboy,  who  was 
Heap  O’  Bears  eldest  brother,  in  a short  while  married 
Hon-zip-fa,  Heap  0’  Bears’  widow,  and  Andele  went 
to  live  with  Napawat,  Heap  0’  Bears’  successor. 
Here  he  found  it  ver}T  disagreeable,  for  Napawat  had 
two  wives  and  they  were  frequently  in  quarrels,  and 
Andele  suffered  from  their  contentions,  as  he  under- 
took to  serve  both. 

Mourning  for  Heap  O’  Bears  was  kept  up  all  year, 
at  sunrise  and  at  sunset  of  each  day,  till  the  next 
spring,  1870.  When  Indians  are  mourning  they  go 
out  some  distance  from  the  tepee  and  stand  with  faces 
toward  the  sun  as  it  rises  or  sets  and  howl  most 
pitifully. 

At  this  time  Napawat,  with  a large  band  of  Kiowas, 
wras  camped  near  the  borders  of  the  Cheyenne  reserva- 
tion, and  just  across  the  line  the  Cheyennes  had 
scalped  a white  woman,  and  were  holding  a wild  scalp 
dance,  while  Andele,  with  other  Kiowas,  was  still 

87 


88  Andele , or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive. 

mourning  for  Heap  0’  Bears.  One  morning,  about 
three  o’clock,  the  whole  surroundings  rang  out  with 
the  crack  of  rifles  in  rapid  succession.  The  soldiers 
from  Ft.  Reno  had  stealthily  surrounded  the  Cheyennes 
for  the  purpose  of  capturing  them,  but  when  they  saw 
that  they  were  holding  a scalp  dance  around  the  scalp 
of  the  white  woman,  it  so  enraged  them  that  at  once 
they  began  killing  them.  Andres,  with  Afpoodlete, 
rushed  out  and  caught  the  horses  hobbled  out  on  the 
prairie,  the  squaws  packed  up  and  they  started  down 
the  Washita  River  as  rapidly  as  possible.  Andele  and 
Afpoodlete  were  ordered  to  go  with  the  squaws,  but  as 
soon  as  they  had  started  them  well  on  the  way,  they 
slipped  back  and  went  with  the  band  to  the  scene  of 
conflict. 

When  day  dawned  the  soldiers  had  disappeared, 
but  the  battle  field,  or  rather  the  slaughter  pen,  was  a 
scene  of  horror,  that  gave  Andele  no  good  opinion  of 
the  white  man  or  his  God.  Here  were  Cheyenne  men, 
women  and  children,  slaughtered  and  lying  promis- 
cuously in  the  snow  stained  with  their  own  life  blood. 
A woman  with  her  lips  burned  off,  stiff  and  cold,  was 
propped  up  against  a tree,  a horrible,  grinning  specta- 
cle. Men  and  women  perfectly  nude  were  placed  in 
such  positions  as  would  not  be  proper  to  describe  here.. 


Atidele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  89 

This  was  done  by  the  civilized  soldiers  of  a Christian 
land,  to  mock  the  barbarous  savages  of  heathen  tribes. 
Which  is  worse,— the  civilized  (?)  soldier,  or  the 
brutal  savage  ? 

This  sight  enraged  the  Indians  and  a yell  of  revenge 
went  up  from  them  as  they  looked  on.  The  Kiowas 
and  Comanches  from  every  quarter  began  to  gather  to 
aid  their  friends,  the  Cheyennes.  They  were  prepar- 
ing for  the  attack  next  day,  but  the  soldiers,  who 
were  in  camp  a few  miles  away,  hearing  of  the  pro- 
posed attack  of  the  allied  tribes,  took  up  the  line  of 
march  back  to  Ft.  Reno.  The  Indians  followed, 
however,  and  in  the  attack  cut  off  a considerable 
troop  of  soldiers  from  their  command  and  killed  them 
nearl5r  all. 

Andres,  being  yet  but  a boy,  was  compelled  to  go 
back  with  the  squaws  to  a place  of  safety  down  the 
Washita.  As  they  went,  an  old  squaw  discovered 
near  the  trail  they  were  traveling  a little  hollow  stone 
image  with  both  legs  and  one  arm  broken  off.  She 
snatched  up  the  image,  called  the  hurrying  crowd  to  a 
halt,  held  the  image  out  in  her  extended  hand,  and 
began  praying,  “O  good  image,  O grandfather,  give 
us  long  life.  Never  .let  us  grow  old.  Give  immunity 
in  war  and  success  in  battle.  Make  our  enemies  blind 


90  Andele,  o>  The  M cxica n- Kiowa  Captive. 

that  we  may  kill  them.  Give  us  long  life,  give  us 
long  life,  and  in  it  all,  youthful  strength  and  beauty.” 

She  then  passed  the  image  to  the  next  one  in  the 
circle,  for  by  this  time  a large  circle  had  been  formed, 
with  instruction  to  pray  as  she  had  done,  especially 
for  long-continued  youth  and  beauty.  Each  one 
prayed  thus  as  they  worshiped  the  image  till  it  came 
Andele’s  turn.  While  he  believed  in  Indian  supersti- 
tions with  all  his  heart,  yet  as  he  gazed  at  that  broken 
image  he  could  see  no  possible  good  to  come  by  wor- 
shiping it,  so,  in  the  spirit  of  humor  and  ridicule,  he 
took  the  image  in  his  hand,  extended  his  arm  and 
began,  ‘‘O  good  medicine,  O grandfather,  I pray  to 
you,  I never  want  to  be  older  and  uglier  than  I am 
now.  I want  to  be  always  young  and  beautiful  and 
never  old  and  ugly  like  the  old  squaw  that  started 
this  worship.  ’ ’ 

He  did  not  get  any  further  with  his  prayer,  for  the 
old  squaw  in  her  wrath  and  the  crowd  in  their  merri- 
ment broke  up  the  worship  in  much  confusion,  and 
soon  all  were  again  on  their  way. 

The  soldiers  were  driven  into  the  fort,  but  in  a few 
days  they  started  with  reinforcements  again  in  pursuit 
of  the  marauding  Indians.  They  came  upon  a band 
of  warriors  near  the  Washita  and  after  a sharp  engage- 


Andele,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive.  91 

ment,  they  captured  Lone  Wolf,  Big  Tree  and  Tsain- 
tanta.  Under  a flag  of  truce  they  called  a council 
with  the  Indians  at  which  they  told  them  if  they 
would  bring  in  all  the  warrior  chiefs  with  those  on 
the  warpath,  that  the  three  captured  chiefs  would  be 
released,  but  if  not,  they  would  be  shot.  This  was  a 
bitter  pill  for  the  Indians  to  swallow,  but  there  was 
no  alternative,  and  they  were  compelled  to  submit. 
At  this  council,  therefore,  peace  was  made  and  the 
chiefs  released. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


Scalping  the  Utes.  A Grim  Joke. 

It  was  now  fully  spring  and  Napawat  sent  an  old 
man  out  to  announce  that  he  was  going  to  start  out  on 
a certain  day  to  avenge  upon  the  Utes  the  jieath  of 
Heap  0’  Bears,  and  that  all  who  wished  to  go  under 
his  leadership  must  be  ready  by  that  time. 

The  dance  was  held,  the  band  gathered  around  the 
rawhide,  worshiped  in  the  usual  way,  and  at  the  ap- 
pointed time,  started  westward  in  search  of  the  Utes. 
They  reached  the  Ute  country  about  forty  miles  north 
of  where  Heap  O’ Bears  was  killed.  Napawat  had 
ridden  apart  from  his  band  some  little  distance,  watch- 
ing carefully  as  he  went,  when  suddenly  he  spied  a 
Ute  watching  a deer.  He  raised  his  bow  and  with 
unerring  aim  sent  the  arrow  through  the  heart  of  the 
unsuspecting  Ute.  As  he  fell  lifeless  another  Ute,  be- 
fore unseen,  sprang  up  from  the  weeds  close  by  and 
was  in  the  act  of  shooting  when  Napawat  thrust  him 
with  a spear  as  he  ran  upon  him,  and  he  also  fell. 

By  this  time  Napawat ’s  band  of  warriors  came  up, 
but  too  late  to  aid  in  the  killing.  Napawat  scalped 


An  dele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  93 

both  the  Utes,  but  the  second  one  was  not  killed,  but 
■was  left  wounded  and  scalped  to  suffer  and  slowly  die. 

Napawat  was  now  satisfied.  He  ceased  mourning 
and  felt  jubilant.  He  started  with  his  band  for  home 
at  once.  Big  Bow  was  somewhere  not  far  away  with 
his  band,  for  they  had  separated  the  day  before,  to 
come  in  on  the  Utes  in  different  directions,  but  Na- 
pawat did  not  take  time  to  hunt  him  up  and  notify 
him  that  Heap  O’  Bears’  death  had  been  avenged. 
He  reached  home  in  triumph  and  the  scalp  dance  be- 
gan at  once.  The  dance  had  been  going  on  nearly  a 
day,  when  Big  Bow  came  in  with  a Ute  war  bonnet, 
quiver  and  bow,  which  he  had  obtained  in  the  follow- 
manner:  When  Napawat  killed  the  first  Ute,  the  Ute’s 
horse,  standing  near,  got  away  and  ran  off.  Not  long 
after  Napawat  had  scalped  the  Utes,  and  with  his  band 
of  warriors  had  started  in  triumph  for  home,  Big  Bow, 
ignorant  of  Napawat’s  whereabouts  or  doings,  arrived 
with  another  band  at  or  near  the  same  place,  captured 
the  Ute’s  runaway  horse,  and  was  moving  along  slowly 
and  cautiously,  when  he  came  upon  a Mexican. 

“Show  me  to  the  Utes,  and  I will  spare  j'our  life, 
and  give  you  this  horse,  ’ ’ as  he  pointed  to  the  captured 
animal. 

“Bueno,”  said  the  Mexican,  as  he  mounted  the 


94  Andele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

horse,  heading  the  band  of  Kiowas  along,  he  pointed 
out  the  wigwan  of  the  Ute  who  had  been  scalped,  but 
was  still  alive. 

“Umpli!”  said  Big  Bow  in  satisfaction  as  he  pushed 
on  in  the  direction  of  the  tepee,  while  the  Mexican, 
taking  advantage  of  this  movement,  disappeared  down 
a bluff  on  the  new  horse  he  had  so  easily  obtained. 
But  that  horse  was  destined  to  give  him  trouble  as  we 
shall  soon  see. 

The  Ute  who  had  been  scalped  was  carried  as 
soon  as  discovered  to  his  tepee.  He  was  a chief, 
and  when  his  friends  saw  the  Kiowas  under  Big 
Bow  approaching,  they  put  on  him  his  war  bonnet, 
put  a bow  and  arrows  in  his  hands,  and  propped 
him  up  in  a dignified  posture,  that  he  might  deceive 
his  enemies,  and  die  like  a chief,  and  then,  to  save 
themselves,  left  him,  and  disappeared  down  the  steep 
bluff  close  by.  When  Big  Bow  come  up,  seeing  him 
with  war  bonnet  on  and  bow  and  arrows  in  hand,  he 
supposed  he  was  ready  for  fight,  but  quickly  found 
him  an  easy  prey.  He  stabbed  him  two  or  three  times, 
jerked  off  his  war  bonnet  to  scalp  him  when,  to  the 
consternation  of  his  superstitious  soul,  the  scalp  was 
gone!  He  rushed  back,  mounted  his  horse,  called  to 
his  band,  and  started  in  full  sweep  for  home,  the 


Andele,  or  The  Mexican- Kioma  Captive.  95 

thought  all  the  time  arising,  “where  is  that  Ute’s 
scalp?’’  He  had  killed  the  man,  he  knew  that.  He 
saw  him  die,  but  the  scalp — unless  he  could  carry  back 
the  scalp  to  grace  his  triumph  and  make  merry  over, 
what  good  was  it  to  kill  a man?  “Where  was  that 
scalp,  anyhow?”  he  continued  to  enquire  as  he  hast- 
ened onward. 

He  reached  home  just  in  the  midst  of  Napawat’s 
scalp  dance,  and  after  some  hesitation  told  of  his  vent- 
ure—how  he  had  killed  a Ute,  but  when  he  jerked  off 
his  wrar  bonnet,  and  went  to  scalp  him,  the  man’s 
scalp  was  gone. 

Napawat  raised  a yell  of  fiendish  merriment  that 
astonished  the  crowd.  He  then  related  how  he  had 
scalped  the  Ute  while  he  was  still  alive  and  that  he 
was  now  dancing  around  the  scalp  of  the  man  that 
Big  Bow  had  so  courageously  (?)  killed.  Big  Bow, 
downcast  and  ashamed,  left  the  dance.  Napawat 
danced  on,  while  he  indulged  in  grim  jokes  about  the 
man  alive  with  no  scalp,  and  about  the  brave  (?)  chief 
who  killed  him. 

Napawat  became  a great  chief.  He  took  the  idol 
that  had  been  kept  by  Heap  O’  Bears  for  his  own. 
But  before  he  could  be  secure  in  its  protection,  he  must 
undergo  the  torture,  which  was  as  follows:  He  went 


96  An  dele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

to  the  mountain,  into  some  lonely  place  where  no  one 
would  disturb  him,  painted  himself  white,  put  on  a 
buffalo  robe  with  the  hair  side  out,  took  a pipe,  and 
mixing  together  tobacco  and  certain  medicine  leaves, 
began  smoking  and  praying  to  the  sun,  and  making 
offering  to  the  sun  of  his  own  blood  as  he  cut  himself 
in  nearly  every  spot.  He  neither  ate  nor  drank  for 
four  days  and  in  the  feverish  condition  induced  by  this 
torture  he  dropped  off  to  sleep  and  dreamed. 

Before  sleeping  he  smoked  to  the  sun  and  prayed 
that  he  might  understand  whatever  revelation  the  sun 
might  give  him  through  the  dream,  whether  he  was 
to  be  a war  chief  or  a medicine  chief  and  what  was  to 
be  his  life  mission.  The  vision  of  successful  war  and 
bloodshed  and  plunder  came  before  his  feverish  brain, 
and  when  he  awoke  he  stepped  forth  with  proud  and 
elastic  tread  in  spite  of  his  emaciated  condition,  strong 
in  the  conviction  that  a great  war  chief  was  he. 

The  Mexican  to  whom  Big  Bow  gave  the  Ute’s 
horse,  not  long  after  was  riding  the  horse  along  the 
streets  of  Trinidad.  The  news  of  the  killing  of  the 
Ute  chief  had  already  reached  Trinidad  where  he  was 
well  known,  but  it  was  not  understood  that  he  was 
killed  in  war  with  the  Kiowas.  Bands  of  Utes  often 
visited  Trinidad,  and  had  made  friends  with  many  of 


Andele,  or  The  Mexica.71- Kiowa  Captive.  97 

the  Mexicans  and  mixed  breeds  and  whites  who  lived 
there.  That  was  their  trading  post  at  that  time. 

A band  of  them  were  standing  near  the  entrance  of 
a grocery  store  when  they  saw  the  Mexican  riding  by, 
and  they  at  once  recognized  their  chiefs  horse.  Had 
they  found  him  out  on  the  prairie  they  would  have 
killed  him  at  once,  but  as  it  was,  they  could  only 
make  known  the  matter  to  their  friends  in  Trinidad. 
As  soon  as  it  was  known,  the  Mexican  was  promptly 
arrested  and  placed  in  jail.  He  lingered  there  a long 
while  and  when  placed  on  trial  the  circumstantial  evi- 
dence against  him  was  overwhelming,  but  through 
some  technicality  in  the  law  he  was  finally  released. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


Foot  Fight.  The  Indian  Worship.  The  Sweat 
Booth.  Buffalo  Medicine  Song. 

The  Indians  during  these  years  wandered  from 
Kansas  to  Texas,  and  westward  and  south  westward 
to  the  Rocky  Mountains  and  Mexico,  plundering 
wherever  they  went,  the  numerous  tribes  as  often  in 
war  with  one  another  as  with  the  hated  whites.  They 
never  stopped  more  than  ten  days  in  one  place,  their 
wanderings  depending  much  upon  the  movements  of 
the  buffalo,  upon  which  they  chiefly  subsisted.  Some- 
times in  their  wanderings,  the  different  bands  would 
get  separated,  and  for  more  than  a year  never  see  each 
other,  but  when  they  got  together  again,  there  was 
general  rejoicing  and  the  occasion  was  usually  cele- 
brated by  a foot  fight. 

This  is  a pugilistic  exercise,  only  the  feet  are  used 
instead  of  the  boxing  glove.  The  two  sides,  consist- 
ing of  from  one  to  a half  dozen  on  a side,  stand  apart 
a dozen  or  more  paces,  and  at  the  signal  given,  run 
toward  each  other,  and,  just  before  meeting,  whirl, 
jump  as  high  as  they  can,  and  kick  backward  with 


Andele,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive.  99 

full  force.  Often  one  antagonist  plants  his  moccasined 
foot  right  into  the  chest  or  abdomen  of  the  other  and 
kicks  him  senseless  for  awhile.  It  is  often  as  danger- 
ous and  brutal  as  a pugilistic  encounter  between  Cor- 
bett and  Sullivan. 

Andele  became  completely  Indianized.  He  took 
up  his  time  in  studying  the  Indian  ways,  for  he  had 
now  come  to  believe  all  their  superstitions,  and  engage 
in  their  worships.  He  had  caught  the  spirit  of  their 
aspirations,  and  he  hoped  to  be  a great  war  chief.  He 
thought  the  Indian  idol,  or  ‘'medicine,”  would  pity 
him  and  help  him,  and  so  he  cried  to  it,  and  often  at 
night  he  would  get  up,  go  to  the  medicine  man,  wor- 
ship, and  offer  a blanket  or  bit  of  property  he  possessed. 

At  the  medicine  man's  tepee  the  idol  is  tied  to  a 
pole  which  is  leaned  against  the  back  of  the  tepee, 
and  over  this  pole  is  a rope  of  buffalo  hair,  tied  near 
the  idol  and  drawn  entirely  around  the  tepee.  When  a 
worshiper  comes  to  make  an  offering,  he  stands  out- 
side crying  thus,  “ Kon  e-ko-on-ta , Grandfather,  help 
me.  I want  to  kill  my  enemies.  I want  to  be  a great 
chief.  Get  me  live  long,  and  when  I die,  let  me  die 
the  death  of  a brave  man  in  war.” 

After  he  has  kept  this  up  for  some  time,  the  wife 
of  the  medicine  man  comes  out,  loosens  the  rope  and 


ioo  Andele , or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

lets  the  idol  down . It  is  enclosed  in  a crescent-shaped 
buffalo-skin  sack.  She  takes  it  and  places  it  on  a 
tripod  a few  feet  just  back  of  the  tepee,  and  then  the 
worshiper  goes  to  it  and  prays  to  it  directly,  after 
which  he  ties  to  the  stand  or  tripod  upon  which  the 
idol  is  placed  a blanket  or  other  article  which  he  gives 
as  an  offering.  That  offering  remains  there  till  next 
dajr,  when  the  woman  takes  it  into  the  tepee  and 
places  it  beside  the  “ medicine,”  and  after  a few  days 
it  is  put  to  the  use  intended.  If  the  offering  is  a 
pony,  a stick  about  six  inches  long  is  tied  to  the  cres- 
cent-shaped sack  containing  the  idol,  while  the  pony 
is  hitched  somewhere  near  by.  The  medicine  man 
himself  goes  to  the  pony,  cuts  a lock  of  hair  from  his 
head  and  tail,  prays  to  the  sun  for  a blessing  upon  the 
worshiper,  and  then  buries  the  hair.  That  pony  is  a 
sacred  offering,  and  must  never  be  struck  over  the  head. 

Often  Andele  engaged  in  this  worship  as  above 
described,  and  sometimes  in  the  early  morning,  after  a 
night  of  anxiety,  he  would  go  and  gather  poles  and 
build  a sweat  house,  that  he  might  worship  in  that 
way.  He  had  heard  the  medicine  chief  say,  ‘‘You 
have  to  feed  the  idol  if  you  get  any  benefit  from  him.” 
And  so  seeking  the  greatest  benefit,  he  was  ready  to 
-make  any  sacrifice. 


Ande/e,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive.  ioi 

On  one  occasion  he  promised  the  sun-god  to  make 
a sweat  house  in  his  honor  and  worship  in  his  name. 
He  put  a squaw  to  cleaning  off  a spot,  while  he  him- 
self went  to  a willow  thicket  and  brought  the  neces- 
sary material  for  the  medicine  booth.  After  the  prep- 
arations were  all  made,  he  went  to  the  tepee  of  the 
chief  medicine  man.  After  the  usual  ceremonies  he 
entered,  circled  around  to  the  left,  as  is  their  custom, 
till  he  came  to  the  idol,  which  he  untied,  and,  retrac- 
ing his  steps,  walked  back  to  his  newly  constructed 
sweat  house.  He  was  soon  followed  by  the  medicine 
man  himself,  who,  before  entering,  looked  up  to  the 
sun  and  prayed,  then  called  out,  “All  who  wish  to 
worship  here  now,  come,  come,  come.’' 

This  soon  brought  together  all  those  who  wished 
to  worship  at  this  time.  They  assembled  near  the 
door  of  the  sweat  house  and  stripped  themselves 
entirely  nude  before  entering.  Upon  entering  they  all 
circled  to  the  left,  the  medicine  chief  taking  his  place 
in  the  west  side  facing  the  east,  with  the  idol  lying 
just  in  front  of  him.  The  long-stemmed  pipe,  well 
filled  with  a mixture  of  ground  sumac  leaves  and 
tobacco,  which,  according  to  custom,  had  been  placed 
near  the  idol,  was  taken  up  by  the  medicine  man 
prepatory  to  smoking,  while  Andele  stepped  out  upon 


102  Atidele,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive. 

the  prairie  for  a piece  of  dried  horse  ordure,  which  he 
lighted  and  then  took  it  in  a split  stick  and  held  it  to 
the  bowl  of  the  pipe,  while  the  medicine  man  proceeded 
to  smoke  and  mutter  some  petition  to  the  sun  as  he 
puffed  the  smoke  upward.  Andele  put  the  split  stick 
down  near  the  fire  in  the  center  of  the  tepee  till  the 
smoking  was  ended. 

Just  outside,  at  the  entrance  of  the  tepee,  was 
placed  a buffalo  head  with  the  nose  toward  the 
entrance,  and  a few  feet  further  away  was  a little  moon- 
shaped furnace  with  a fire  in  it.  In  this  worship,  after 
the  smoking  is  over,  the  split  stick  is  taken  and  placed 
upon  the  summit  of  this  moon -shaped  furnace.  The 
rocks  are  placed  in  this  furnace  to  heat.  The  medicine 
man  takes  a little  tobacco  and  prays  to  the  sun,  to  the 
moon,  to  the  earth,  and  to  the  idol  before  him  in  the 
tepee.  Four  times  he  goes  through  this  form  of  smok- 
ing and  praying  to  the  heavenly  bodies  and  to  the 
earth  and  to  the  idol.  While  he  offers  the  smoke  to 
these  idols  and  motions  towards  the  four  cardinal 
points  of  the  compass,  he  also  prays  to  his  grandfather: 
“O,  Grandfather,  give  me  power  over  my  enemies; 
make  them  blind  that  I may  kill  them;  help  me  to 
steal  good  horses.  Give  me  health  and  long  life.” 

After  the  medicine  man  is  through  he  passes 


Andele,  or  The  Mexican  -Kiowa  Captive.  103 

the  pipe  to  the  one  at  his  left,  who  worships  and 
smokes  as  the  chief  before  him  had  done,  and  he  in 
turn  passes  it  to  the  next  worshiper  at  his  left,  and  so 
on  till  the  extreme  left  is  reached.  The  pipe  is  then 
passed  back  around  the  semi-circle  to  the  extreme 
right,  when  the  smoking  and  worship  begins  again  and 
passes  on  as  before  to  the  left. 

The  smoking  both  in  worship  and  in  social  life  is 
done  in  this  wa}r.  A semi-circle  of  three  to  ten  or 
even  twenty  is  formed.  One  of  the  number  lights  a 
pipe,  or  often  a cigarette  made  of  leaves,  smokes  a few 
whiffs,  passes  it  to  the  man  at  his  left,  who  likewise 
smokes,  and  passes  it  to  the  left,  and  on  till  it  reaches 
the  last  one  on  the  extreme  left,  when  it  is  then  handed 
back  to  the  right,  and  it  passes  on  as  before,  each  one 
smoking  a few  whiffs  and  passing  it  to  his  left.  It 
would  be  a serious  breach  of  etiquette  to  pass  it  to  the 
right  instead  of  the  left. 

It  is  seldom  an  Indian  ever  smokes  alone,  but  he 
shares  the  same  cigarette  or  pipe  with  others.  Often 
there  may  be  only  two  of  them  sitting  together  smok- 
ing, but  the  same  rule  is  observed  whether  there  be 
two  or  a dozen. 

In  the  worship,  after  the  smoking  is  over,  the 
medicine  man  orders  the  hot  rocks  to  be  brought. 


104  Andele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

The  one  who  makes  the  sweat  house  and  calls  for  the 
worship  must  go  for  the  rocks.  He  places  them  at 
the  door  of  the  tepee,  when  the  medicine  man  goes 
through  the  four-fold  mode  of  receiving  them.  He 
worships,  then  motions  as  though  he  would  receive 
them,  but  does  this  the  fourth  time,  when  he  takes 
them  and  places  them  in  the  center  of  the  sweat  house 
in  the  little  hole  prepared  for  them.  Then  he  receives 
the  water  in  the  same  way.  He  begins  to  tap  upon 
the  bucket  with  a small  switch,  and,  after  motioning 
to  do  so  four  times,  he  pours  the  water  upon  the  hot 
rocks,  praying  each  time  as  he  motions.  The  steam 
arising  from  the  hot  rocks  and  water  causes  the  per- 
spiration to  pour  forth  from  every  pore  in  great  pro- 
fusion, while  the  worshipers  strike  themselves  over 
shoulder  and  upon  back  and  sides  with  buffalo  tails 
and  grass.  They  sing  some  and  call  upon  their  dead 
ancestors,  “O,  Grandfather,  give  me  success  in  war, 
that  I may  get  many  scalps  and  much  plunder  and 
never  be  hurt  myself.  ’ ’ 

If,  while  they  worship,  it  gets  too  hot,  they  go 
through  the  four-fold  form  of  worship  before  raising 
the  tepee  to  let  the  cool  air  in.  After  the  worship  is 
ended  they  all  pass  out,  filing  to  the  left.  If  in  this 
worship  they  hear  the  voice  of  a woman  or  a child,  it 


Andele,  or  The  . Mexico n -Kiowa  Captive.  105 

is  a good  omen,  but  they  dare  not  look  at  themselves 
in  any  sort  of  mirror,  nor  come  near  a jack-rabbit,  or 
bear,  or  other  wild  animal. 

Andele  got  accustomed  to  this  form  of  worship. 
He  became  an  expert  and  at  last  ventured  one  day  to 
try  to  cure  a wounded  man  whom  a Texas  Ranger  had 
shot.  He  gathered  with  the  crowd  of  medicine  men 
around  the  man  and  began  to  sing  the  buffalo  song. 
'This  song  is  sung  onty  over  men  who  have  been 
wounded.  It  would  be  a sacrilege  to  sing  it  for  mere 
amusement,  or  on  other  occasions  than  bloodshed. 
They  shook  buffalo  tails  over  the  man  as  they  sang, 
and  finally'  one  of  them  cried  out,  “ I feel  like  my  gods 
are  all-over  me. ' ’ He  slapped  his  sides,  and  shook  him- 
self, and  roared  in  mimicry  of  the  buffalo  bull,  and 
began  to  spit  red  paint  that  he  had  in  his  mouth  into 
his  hands  and  rub  it  upon  Andele ’s  face,  and  say  to 
him,  ‘‘There,  I give  you  that  to  make  you  a great 
medicine  chief.  ’ ’ And  Andele  verily  thought  that  this 
would  endow  him  with  greater  power. 

When  he  had,  therefore,  according  to  custom  for 
medicine  men,  tied  a lock  of  buffalo  hair  to  his  own 
scalp  lock  on  top  of  his  head,  the  man  who  gave  him 
the  paint  said,  ‘‘Go  now  and  dream,  and  when  you 
have  dreamed,  return  and  let  me  know,  and  that  shall 


106  Andele , o?  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

indicate  more  fully  your  future  strength  and  power.” 

Andele  at  once  went  away  alone.  His  purpose 
was  to  get  all  that  there  was  to  be  had  from  the  idols. 
He  had  deep  faith  in  the  unseen,  the  supernatural,  and 
fully  felt  that  there  was  power  above  that  could  be 
transmitted  to  men,  and  would  be  in  answer  to  sacrifice 
and  prayer.  And  if  there  was  anything  that  he  could 
do  to  get  this  power  he  felt  that  he  must  do  it. 

Receiving  instructions  as  to  how  to  paint  his  body, 
he  went  to  his  hiding  place  in  the  mountains  to  dream. 
In  the  earnest,  excited,  almost  fevered  condition  of 
mind  he  could  not  but  dream,  and  so  the  dream  god 
soon  revealed  to  him  that  he  muht  secure  from  the 
medicine  man  who  gave  him  the  paint  a certain  shield 
in  which  there  was  great  virtue.  So  going  to  the 
tepee  of  the  man,  he  took  down  the  shield  and  carried 
it  and  placed  it  on  the  top  of  a sweat  house  he  had 
previously  prepared,  but  carried  the  idol  to  the  inside. 

Sankadotie , seing  the  purpose  of  Andres  to  get  the 
shield,  tried  to  dissuade  him. 

“Why,”  said  Andres,  “do  you  not  want  me  to  get 
the  shield  when  there  is  so  much  power  in  it?” 

“ Because,”  answered  Sankadotie,  11  if  you  get  that 
shield  it  will  prove  a great  burden  to  you.” 

“ In  what  way?  ” asked  Andele. 


Andele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  107 

“Yen’  many  ways,”  said  Sankadotie.  ”L,et  me 
show  you,  for  instance;  every  time  you  cook  you  have 
to  place  on  top  of  your  tepee  for  the  god  of  your 
shield  a piece  of  the  meat  you  are  about  to  cook,  and  if 
you  should  forget  to  do  so  at  first,  then  you  are  com- 
pelled to  throw  the  whole  of  it  away,  for  it  becomes 
polluted  meat  and  the  anger  of  the  shield’s  god  will  be 
against  you,  if  you  go  on  cooking  it.” 

“But  my  purpose  is  to  get  power,  that  I may" 
subdue  my-  enemies  and  be  successful  in  war,  and  I 
am  willing  to  carry'  a burden  if  I can  but  secure  that,” 
said  Andele,  as  he  turned  away,  lest  further  persuasion 
should  be  used.  He  went  on  with  his  performance  to 
get  the  shield. 

“Here,”  said  the  medicine  man,  ‘‘are  some  crow 
feathers,  deer  hoofs  and  buffalo  hair,  tie  that  to  your 
hair  for  a sure  and  powerful  medicine." 

Andele  replied,  “ I will  take  this,  but  I want  your 
shield  with  its  powers  transferred  to  me.  What  can  I 
do  to  secure  it  ? ” 

“ Here,”  again  answered  the  medicine  man,  “ take 
this,”  and  he  handed  him  a long  curled  lock  from  a 
cow’s  tail  painted  green,  ‘‘with  this  y'our  powers  will 
he  increased.  When  yrou  wish  to  paint,  put  this  in  your 
mouth  and  blow,  and  y'ou  will  get  the  paint  needed.” 


108  A yidcle,  or  The  Me xica?i- Kiowa  Captive. 

“But  I want  your  shield.,’’  again  Andele  replied. 
He  was  so  persistent  that  the  medicine  man  seemed  to 
“be  at  a loss  what  to  do,  so  he  said,  “You  have  not 
paid  me  enough  yet.” 

Andele  had  already  given  him  many  things,  but  he 
was  ready  to  make  any  sacrifice  to  get  the  shield,  for 
he  felt  he  must  have  it.  He  went  away  disappointed, 
but  still  planning  how  he  could  become  the  owner  of 
the  shield  with  its  powers.  Among  the  young,  he 
often  made  a display  of  the  powers  already  conferred 
upon  him  by  the  gift  of  the  paint,  crow  feathers,  and 
cow’s  tail.  One  night  he  dreamed  that  to  get  the 
shield  he  so  much  coveted,  he  would  have  to  give  a 
white  horse,  but  he  had  none,  and  he  was  unable  to 
get  one,  unless  he  went  out  on  a marauding  expedition 
and  captured  one. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


Marauding  Expedition  into  Texas.  Massacre 
on  the  Washita. 

It  was  now  the  opening  of  1871.  Napawat  while 
on  a visit  to  the  military  post  at  Ft.  Sill,  took  sick 
and  lingered,  in  spite  of  (or  on  account  of)  the  skill  of 
the  medicine  men,  till  spring.  He  promised  his  idol 
that  if  he  would  make  him  well  he  would  go  on  a 
marauding  expedition  into  Texas. 

In  answer,  as  he  thought,  to  this  vow  he  was  soon 
able  to  get  out.  He  then  took  a considerable  band  of 
young  warriors,  went  down  to  Greer  County  to  hold  a 
dance,  and  prepare  for  the  warpath.  Andele  was 
quite  young,  but  he  determined  to  go. 

“Andele,”  said  Napawat,  “ you  are  too  young  for 
war.” 

“No,  no,”  he  answered,  “I  want  to  go,  I know  I 
can  scalp  the  enemy.  My  medicine  is  strong.” 

“If  you  go,”  said  Napawat,  “you  will  go  with  me. 
Come,  and  while  I do  not  like  to  take  children  to  war, 
you  may  learn  something  for  future  conflicts.  W e will 
dance  around  the  rawhide  and  get  ready.” 

109 


no  Andele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

Next  day  after  the  dance,  Napawat  and  Andele  got 
horses  and  called  together  the  band  and  started  for 
Texas.  Mokine,  Kankea,  and  Quo-e-kon-kea,  were 
also  in  this  band,  and  well  had  they  proven  their  skill 
in  past  conflicts  in  jerking  scalps  from  the  heads  of 
dying  victims.  The  band  crossed  Red  River  and  went 
several  days  journey  down  into  Texas,  and  finally 
reached  a timbered  country. 

Alighting  for  a short  rest,  they  hid  their  saddles 
away  in  the  underbrush,  and  went  on  bareback  for  two 
days.  About  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  they  reached 
the  summit  of  a hill  from  which  they  could  survey  the 
country  for  many  miles  around. 

Two  villas  were  in  sight  not  many  miles  away. 
Napawat  stood  gazing  intently  toward  one  of  them 
muttering  something  to  himself,  when  he  discovered 
Andele  close  at  his  side. 

“Andele,”  said  he,  “you  want  to  be  a great  chief, 
and  you  want  to  be  successful  in  war  and  plunder,  and 
now  look  yonder  at  the  hated  Texas  man’s  houses. 
Y ou  shall  have  an  opportunity  soon  of  showing  whether 
you  be  a man  or  squaw.  If  you  be  brave  you  shall 
have  all  my  property  at  your  command,  but  if  you  be 
a coward  and  play  the  squaw,  you  will  have  to  go 
home  and  carry  wood  on  your  back,  and  water  for  the 


Ande/e,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 


1 1 1 


squaws.  Very  soon  the  sun  will  go  down  and  the 
Texas  man  with  his  wife  and  children  will  be  asleep 
and  know  not  that  the  braves  of  the  Kiowas  are  com- 
ing to  take  their  scalps.  Y ou  must  not  be  afraid  either 
to  scalp  the  hated  Texas  man  or  steal  his  horse.” 

The  indignation  rose  in  Andele  as  Napawat  talked. 
To  be  called  a squaw  is  about  the  greatest  insult  that 
can  be  offered  an  Indian,  and  Andele  was  indignant 
that  Napawat  should  even  intimate  that  there  was 
even  any  probability  of  his  being  like  one.  He  replied 
as  the  fire  flashed  from  his  eyes : 

“I  will  never  be  a squaw.  If  you  don’t  find  me  as 
ready  in  conflict  as  any  in  this  band,  then  you  can  put 
me  to  carrying  wood  and  water  and  nursing  the  pa- 
pooses for  the  squaws , but  I am  sure  to  leave  that  j ob 
for  some  more  woman-hearted  warrior  in  your  band.” 

“Good,”  replied  Napawat,  as  he  looked  at  Andele’s 
swelling  form,  for  he  seemed  to  grow  larger  as  he 
made  his  boast.  “A  trial  of  your  courage  will  soon  be 
made,”  and  Napawat  pointed  again  towards  the  villa 
at  the  foot  of  the  hill. 

The  sun  soon  sank  out  of  sight  and  left  all  in  dark- 
ness and  quiet,  save  the  bustle  of  the  people  in  the 
village  below.  It  was  cloudy  but  the  moon  came  up, 
and,  now  and  then  through  the  rifted  clouds  shone  full 


1 12  Andele , or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive. 

and  bright.  The  band  led  by  Napawat,  with  Andele 
close  by  his  side,  stole  quietly  and  cautiously  down 
the  hillside  and  listening,  waited  patiently  till  every 
thing  was  still  and  all  were  asleep. 

“Let  us  keep  together,”  said  Napawat,  “and  break 
in  yonder” — but -suddenly  the  violent  barking  of  a 
huge  dog  awakened  the  inmates  of  the  house  to  which 
Napawat  pointed,  and  knowing  from  the  violent  con- 
duct of  the  dog  as  he  sprang  forward  to  the  full  length 
of  his  chain,  that  there  was  something  unusual,  the 
Ranger  grasped  his  gun  and  peering  out  at  the  window 
of  his  log  house,  discovered  the  Kiowas  as  they  ap- 
proached, and  began  firing  so  rapidly  that  the  Indians 
concluded  there  were  many  men  hidden  away,  who 
had  possible  learned  of  their  presence,  and  were  fully 
prepared  for  them.  Without  raising  the  warwhoop  at 
all,  Napawat  called  off  his  men,  but  as  they  passed 
around  between  some  houses  a pair  of  mule’s  ears  were 
discovered  by  Andele  sticking  out  from  a stable  door. 

‘ ‘ If  we  are  to  be  deprived  of  the  expected  conflict 
and  it  is  to  end  thus,”  said  Andele,  “I  will  venture  to 
take  that  mule  as  a fit  trophy  of  this  raid.  ’ ’ Springing 
forward,  he  threw  back  the  half  broken  door,  cut  the 
rope  with  which  the  mule  was  tied,  led  him  out  and 
just  as  he  was  clearing  the  entrance  to  the  corral,  the 


Andele , or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive.  113 

white  man  who  had  fired  upon  them , sallied  forth  with 
rifle,  but  for  some  unaccountable  reason  did  not  fire. 
Mokine  called  to  Andele: 

“Leave  the  mule  and  run,  for  the  white  men  are 
gathering.  Don't  you  hear  the  guns?’’  and  gun 
answering  to  gun  was  heard  in  every  direction.  The 
white  men,  the  Texas  Rangers,  who  were  so  well 
organized  in  those  days,  were  gathering  from  every- 
where, and  the  Indians  had  lost  their  opportunity.  It 
would  be  a narrow  escape  if  they  got  away  at  all. 

“I  am  no  squaw,”  answered  Andele,  “I  may  not 
be  able  to  get  a scalp,  but  I will  take  back  some  fitting 
trophy  of  this  shameful  and  cowardly  retreat,  to  help 
you  and  the  squaws  carry  wood  and  water,  or  I will  lose 
my  scalp  in  the  attempt,”  and  defying  all  the  danger 
that  surrounded  him  he  pulled  that  mule  along,  till 
the  mule,  at  first  reluctant,  became  frightened  at  the 
approach  of  the  Texas  Ranger  behind,  and  springing 
forward  kept  pace  with  the  horse  Andele  now  rode, 
for  he  had  remounted.  He  soon  overtook  the  retreat- 
ing band  of  marauders,  when  he  discovered  that  Kan- 
kea  and  Napawat  each  had  secured  a horse  apiece. 

1 ‘ We  must  travel  without  rest  till  the  sun  comes 
up,”  said  Napawat,  “for  the  Texas  man  will  be  upon 
our  trail  with  many  men  by  the  first  light  of  the 


1 14  Andele,  or  The  MeMcan-Kiowa  Captive. 

morning,  and  if  we  wait  they  will  overtake  us  before 
we  cross  Red  River  back  into  our  own  country.” 

All  night  long  they  pushed  forward  in  a rapid  gallop, 
for  after  leaving  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  village 
they  were  on  open  prairie,  with  nothing  to  hinder 
their  course.  As  the  sun  came  up  again  they  reached 
the  skirt  of  the  timber  where  they  had  hid  their  sad- 
dles several  days  before.  They  stopped  for  an  hour’s 
rest,  when  they  saddled  their  horses  and  remounted. 
Early  in  the  morning,  after  another  night’s  travel,, 
they  reached  the  Brazos  River  at  a very  bad  crossing, 
and  turning  up  the  river  they  concluded  to  recross 
where  the}'  had  forded  some  days  before.  As  they 
were  rounding  a bluff  near  the  place  of  crossing, 
Kankea,  who  was  at  this  time  at  the  head  of  the  band, 
suddenly  whirled  his  horse  around,  threw  his  body 
down  to  one  side  of  his  saddle,  and  in  the  low  gutteral 
tone  of  the  Indian  exclaimed,  “ Soldiers!  ” 

The  whole  band  of  Kiowas  plunged  into  the  river 
from  the  bluff  and  swam  to  the  other  bank,  when 
the  soldiers,  who  had  mounted  as  rapidly  as  possible, 
dashed  up.  But  seeing  that  the  Indians  had  crossed, 
they  hurried  back  to  the  regular  ford  and  were  soon 
in  hot  pursuit  of  them  as  they  swept  over  the  prairie 
toward  the  northwest.  All  the  morning  the  pursuit 


Andele,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa.  Captive.  115 

was  kept  up,  the  Indians  throwing  back  defiant  signs 
as  they  hurried  on. 

About  noon  the  soldiers  halted;  the  Indians  seeing 
this  rode  on  a short  distance  and  halted  also,  for  their 
horses  were  well  nigh  exhausted.  Had  the  soldiers 
known  this,  they  could,  by  a rapid  race,  have  over- 
taken them.  They  rested  here  for  a while,  keeping 
eyes  on  the  soldiers,  and  then  started  on.  During  the 
night  they  crossed  Red  River  and  camped  for  a short 
while  near  the  foot  of  Wichita  Mountains.  The  next 
day,  having  pushed  on  towards  the  north,  they  had 
reached  a place  near  a little  creek  north  of  the  Wichita 
Mountains,  when  suddenly  the}'  were  startled  by  the 
war-whoop  coming  from  a band  of  warriors  returning 
from  the  westward,  who  had  captured  a number  of 
horses  and  taken  several  scalps. 

The  taunts  and  jeers  of  this  band  cast  at  Napawat 
for  his  failure  to  get  scalps,  raised  Andele ’s  indignation 
so  that  he  did  not,  as  he  had  intended,  tell  of  their 
cowardly  retreat  from  the  Texas  village.  He  knew  that 
neither  he  nor  any  of  the  band  would  be  allowed  to 
dance  or  rejoice  with  the  victorious  warriors  around 
the  scalps  that  they  had  taken.  He  consoled  him- 
self, however,  when  he  saw  a 'number  of  the  victors 
on  foot,  their  horses  being  so  jaded  that  they  were 


1 1 6 Andele , ot  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive. 

unable  to  carry  their  owners.  He  knew  that  it  was 
a sure  sign  that  they,  too,  had  been  compelled  to 
run  before  the  hot  pursuit  of  the  hated  Texas  Ranger. 
So  it  was  with  a revived  feeling  of  pride  and  conde- 
scension that  the5r  loaned  the  returning  victors  a 
number  of  good  horses  that  they  themselves  had 
taken  in  Texas. 

The  victorious  band  hurried  on  from  here  and  soon 
reached  their  camp,  where  they  held  their  scalp  dance. 
Napawat  with  his  band  turned  his  course  eastward, 
toward  the  mouth  of  Chandler  Creek,  as  the}r  had 
learned  that  their  squaws  and  children  had  in  their 
absence  moved  the  camp  to  that  place. 

In  a few  daj^s  many  had  gathered  here,  but  the 
baud  of  victorious  Indians  had  gone  on  towards  Ana- 
darko  and  camped  near  the  agency,  where,  fresh  from 
their  marauding  expedition,  and  flushed  with  success, 
they  were  very  insolent  and  soon  had  brought  on  a state 
of  affairs  that  presaged  a massacre.  Those  near  the 
mouth  of  Chandler  Creek  had  been  notified  by  the  mili- 
tary at  Ft.  Sill  to  come  in  and  surrender  their  warriors, 
and  while  they  were  consulting  what  to  do,  there  came 
news  that  an  outbreak  had  been  already  made  near  Ana- 
darko  and  a number  killed.  At  once  the  whole  camp 
broke  up  and  started  to  join  their  people  in  the  conflict. 


Andele,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive.  117 

Reaching  the  Washita  they  crossed  the  river  a few 
miles  below  the  agency  and  going  up  the  river  they 
found  the  agency  deserted.  Big  Bow  led  his  band  to 
the  store  of  the  Indian  trader,  broke  it  open  and 
plundered  it  of  such  things  as  he  liked.  He  secured 
a considerable  amount  of  money  in  greenbacks,  from 
the  smallest  shinplasters  to  the  larger  denominations, 
and  not  knowing  the  value  of  it  made  cigarette  paper 
of  it  for  smoking  the  mixture  of  sumac  and  tobacco. 

While  this  was  going  on,  Andele  was  active  in  his 
efforts  to  so  learn  the  arts  of  Indian  warfare  that  he 
might  become  a great  chief.  He  had  been  now  in  so 
many  exciting  scenes  that  he  cared  no  longer  for  the 
shield  of  the  medicine  man,  and  ceased  his  efforts  to 
secure  it.  When  this  outbreak  at  Anadarko  (1872) 
took  place,  the  various  military  posts  were  notified,  and 
soon  troops  from  Ft.  Sill,  Ft.  Reno  and  Ft.  Elliott 
started  for  the  conflict,  for  it  was  apprehended  that  the 
outbreak  would  be  general  and  would  take  many  men 
and  much  time  to  subdue  it.  The  Indians  finding 
that  the  United  States  troops  were  gathering  from 
Ft.  Sill  and  the  other  posts  became  alarmed  and 
started  westward  for  the  Rocky  Mountains. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


Taiian,  The  Captive  Texan. 

Once  when  a band  of  Kiowas  were  on  a marauding 
expedition  down  in  Texas,  they  plundered  a frontier 
home,  and  murdered  all  the  family  except  a boy  of 
about  five  years  of  age.  Him  they  carried  captive 
away,  to  be  given  (for  adoption)  to  a squaw  who  had 
lost  her  only  son.  The  Indians  not  knowing  nor 
caring  for  his  real  name  called  him  Tahan  (meaning 
Texas  man),  for  the  reason  that  he  was  captured  in 
Texas. 

All  Indians  are  named  from  some  circumstance 

connected  with  them,  and  this  is  why  there  are  so 

many  singular  names  among  them . 1 ‘ Stum bling  Bear ’ ’ 

looks  like  a great  awkward  bear  reared  back  on  his 

haunches,  hence  his  name.  A boy  was  born  about 

the  time  the  Indians  had  ceased  mourning  in  a certain 

camp,  hence  was  called,  Kea-kee , or  “Quit  Mourning.” 

Another  was  bom  at  a time  when  the  mother  was  far 

away  from  home,  hence  he  was  called,  “Born  a long 

ways  from  home.”  If  Tahan  was  old  enough  when 

captured  to  know  his  name,  he  was  too  young  to  give 

118 


Andele , or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  119 

it  correctly  to  the  Indians,  and  hence  he  at  once 
accepted  the  name  given  by  them. 

At  the  time  of  this  outbreak  near  Anadarko,  Tahan 
was  about  eighteen  years  old,  and  was  as  complete  an 
Indian  in  habits,  customs,  and  superstitions,  as  the 
most  extreme  Indian,  and  was  as  bitter  and  cruel  in 
purpose  of  bloodshed  and  plunder.  When  the  Indians 
started  westward,  and  had,  after  a day’s  travel,  reached 
a point  several  miles  north  of  the  Washita  River,  they 
pitched  camp,  hoping  to  rest  several  days  before  they 
went  on.  Tahan  seeing  what  was  before  them,  and 
remembering  that  he  had  left  his  best  horse  at  their 
former  camp,  and  that  he  would  need  him,  started 
after  him.  It  was  about  ten  miles  to  the  south,  but 
he  could  go  there  and  get  back  in  time  to  go  on  with 
the  band  westward. 

He  had,  on  some  raid,  secured  a good  rifle,  and 
when  he  reached  the  crossing  on  the  Washita,  on  the 
Ft.  Reno  and  Ft.  Elliot  trail,  he  discovered  a deer. 
He  shot  and  wounded  it  badly,  but  did  not  kill  it. 
He  sprang  from  his  horse,  hitching  him  hastily  with 
the  larriat  to  a bush,  and  leaving  his  gun  hanging  to 
the  saddle,  he  ran  after  the  wounded  deer,  which  had 
fallen  some  little  distance  away.  He  butchered  the 
deer,  and  returned  to  get  his  horse,  but  just  as  he  took 


120  Afidele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

hold  of  the  larriat,  a troop  of  soldiers  rode  up  from 
the  steep  banks  of  the  river  and  took  him  prisoner. 
It  was  a squadron  of  cavalry  going  as  couriers  with 
papers  from  Ft.  Elliott  to  the  commanding  officer  at 
Ft.  Reno.  They  hurried  Tahan  on  before  them,  not 
knowing  at  first  that  he  was  a full  blood  white. 

An  Indian  scout  who  had  been  watching  the  trail 
saw  that  Tahan  was  captured  and  soon  communicated 
the  news  to  the  Kiowas.  At  once  Napawat  called  the 
whole  band  of  warriors  to  mount,  and  away  they  went 
in  hot  pursuit.  In  the  course  of  a few  hours  they 
came  in  sight  of  the  squad  of  soldiers,  but  just  as 
the  soldiers  were  meeting  a large  troop  coming  with 
a train  of  wagons  from  the  direction  of  Ft.  Reno. 

Napawat,  seeing  there  were  too  many  now  to  attack 
openly,  decided  to  try  strategy . He  turned  and  went 
with  his  warriors  back  towards  the  crossing  on  the 
Washita,  near  which  was  a deep  canon  through  which 
the  soldiers  must  pass  in  traveling  towards  Ft.  Elliot. 
It  was  decided  that  they  would  conceal  themselves 
there  at  the  summit,  and  when  the  pale-faced  soldiers 
were  in  the  cut,  they  would  attack  them.  Napawat 
and  the  band  got  to  the  place  decided  upon,  dis- 
mounted, stripped  themselves,  and  painted  themselves 
in  such  a way  that  they  were  a hideous  sight  to  behold. 


Andele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 


121 


They  had  not  long  to  wait,  for  soon  they  beheld 
the  head  of  the  column  coming  cautiously  along.  As 
they  lay  in  ambush,  they  watched  anxiously  for  Tahan, 
for  the  only  purpose  they  had  in  view  was  to  recapture 
him.  He  was  veritably  an  Indian.  He  knew  not  the 
white  man's  language.  He  loved  the  Indians,  and 
they  loved  him.  Tahan  they  must  have,  and  Tahan 
was  just  as  anxious  to  get  back  to  them. 

They  soon  discovered  him  in  charge  of  two  soldiers, 
one  on  each  side.  Becoming  over  eager,  the  war- 
whoop  was  raised  too  soon,  for  the  soldiers  had  not 
yet  reached  the  most  disadvantageous  ground,  and 
when  they  heard  the  war-whoop,  and  saw  the  hid- 
eously painted  Kiowas  coming,  in  quick  movement 
they  whirled  their  wagons  around  into  a kind  of 
fortress,  and  were  read}"  for  the  attack. 

The  Indians  seeing  the  celerity  with  which  this 
was  done,  and  the  accuracy  with  which  the  soldiers 
fired,  were  deterred,  and  hesitating  awhile,  fell  back  in 
some  disorder.  They  soon  rallied  and  came  again, 
but  were  again  repulsed.  Again  and  again  they 
they  charged  upon  the  encampment,  but  the  soldiers 
had  now  secured  themselves  by  spade  and  shovel  in 
throwing  up  breastworks.  Night  came  on,  and  the 
fighting  ceased  till  next  day.  During  the  night  some 


122  Andele , or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

of  the  Indians  crawled  up  as  close  to  the  soldiers’ 
encampment  as  they  dared,  and  began  to  call,  ‘ ‘ Tahan, 
Tahan,  ema,  ema.”  (Tahan,  Tahan,  you  come,  you 
come).  They  continued  to  call  him,  “Run  away  from 
the  soldiers  and  come  on,  your  grandfather  is  waiting 
for  you.  He  wants  you  to  get  him  some  buffalo  meat. 
Come  on.”  For  three  days  the  seige  was  kept  up, 
each  night  the  Indians  calling  for  Tahan,  who  was 
kept  under  close  guard  by  the  soldiers. 

Andele  all  this  time  was  among  the  foremost  in 
every  charge,  and  several  times  he  made  narrow 
escapes.  On  the  third  night  the  Indians  held  a coun- 
cil and  decided  that  if  they  did  not  accomplish 
something  next  day,  they  would  withdraw,  and  go  on 
their  way  westward.  They  had  settled  on  plans  for 
the  next  day’s  attack,  and  had  all  gotten  quiet,  when 
some  one  in  subdued  voice  was  heard  calling: 

“Where  are  you,  grandfather,  where  are  you?  Are 
you  all  gone  ? ’ ’ 

“ Listen, ” said  Andele,  “ who  is  that?  Somebody 
calls.” 

All  listened  with  fear  and  superstitious  anxiety; 
for  while  it  sounded  somewhat  like  the  voice  of 
Tahan,  yet  it  seemed  to  be  far  away  and  weak.  But 
again  the  voice  came,  clearer  this  time  as  it  called  out: 


Andelc,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  123 

‘ ‘ My  people,  where  are  you  ? ’ ’ 

“Who  is  that?’’  called  Napawat. 

“I,  Tahan.  I come.’’ 

In  a moment  the  whole  camp  was  in  commotion, 
running  together  and  'crying  out,  “Tahan!  Tahan! 
he  has  come,  he  has  come,  ’ ’ and  they  threw  their  arms 
around  him  and  rejoiced  over  him. 

After  sometime  all  was  quiet  again.  Tahan  was 
telling  with  much  interest  to  his  dusky  friends  how  he 
had,  by  rolling  out  from  under  the  blanket  under 
which  he  was  lying,  slipped  away  and  made  his  escape 
in  the  darkness,  and  he  supposed  the  soldiers  who 
were  guarding  him  had  not  yet  detected  his  absence. 
While  thus  engaged  they  discovered  just  there  in  the 
darkness,  slipping  stealthily  along  in  their  direction, 
the  form  of  a warrior. 

In  a moment  every  man  grasped  his  spear,  for  they 
thought  it  the  approach  of  the  enemy,  and  they  were 
ready  for  the  conflict.  But  they  heard  some  one  speak 
in  the  Kiowa  tongue.  Napawat  called,  “Who  are  you?’’ 

‘ ‘ Umph,  ’ ’ grunted  back  the  voice.  ‘ ‘ Your  friends 
have  a hard  time  to  find  you,  Napawat,”  for  it  was 
one  of  his  own  band  who  was  left  several  days  before 
at  the  river  crossing  to  watch  that,  and  who  had  come 
to  warn  him  of  danger. 


124  Andele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

“You  need  to  be  quick.  If  you  have  accomplished 
nothing  here,  it  is  too  late  now,  for  soldiers  are  coining 
from  the  way  of  the  setting  sun  in  great  numbers.  The 
whole  earth  is  covered  with  them,  and  they  are  camped 
to-night  not  far  from  our  squaws  and  papooses,  and 
are  headed  right  towards  their  camp,  and  to-morrow 
our  squaws  and  papooses  will  all  be  murdered,  as  were 
the  Cheyennes  not  far  from  here  not  long  ago,  unless 
something  is  done  quick.’’ 

Napawat  listened  until  this  speech  was  through, 
then  called  out  to  his  men  to  mount,  saying,  “ If  we 
be  men,  let  us  put  ourselves  between  the  squaws  and 
papooses  and  danger.  Let  us  die  like  brave  men 
should  die,  rather  than  see  our  children  murdered  and 
our  women  outraged  as  were  the  Cheyennes.”  Every 
man  in  the  whole  band  gave  the  grunt  of  approval,  and 
soon  all  were  on  the  march. 

The  soldiers  knew  not  that  the  seige  was  raised  till 
next  morning.  They  ventured  out  cautiously  and 
soon  found  that  the  Kiowas  had  all  disappeared. 
Where,  they'  knew  not.  Could  they'  have  known, 
there  would  have  been  no  need  of  caution  as  they 
broke  camp  and  continued  their  march.  As  it  was, 
they  marched  slowly'  and  with  every'  precaution,  lest 
the  Indians  should  undertake  another  ambush  attack. 


Andele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  125 

When  Napawat  reached  the  camp  of  the  women 
and  children  in  the  early  morning,  he  found  that  the 
soldiers  coming  from  Ft.  Elliot  had  camped  not  far 
away,  and  that  now  what  was  done  would  have  to  be 
done  quickly.  While  he  was  considering  the  matter, 
news  of  another  troop  of  soldiers  from  towards  Ft.  Sill 
reached  him. 

He  began  to  call  the  band  of  warriors  to  arms,  but 
found  that,  through  fear,  many  of  them  were  slow  to 
move,  and  others  were  advising  against  fighting,  and 
cowardly  hiding  away.  Napawat  seeing  this,  called 
them  squaws  and  upbraided  them  for  their  cowardice, 
but  it  had  little  effect.  Fear  had  overcome  the  would- 
be  braves.  Napawat  finally  called  out,  saying, 

“ Seeing  you  are  all  so  cowardly,  and  will  not  fight, 
I intend  at  once  to  go  and  give  myself  up  to  the 
soldiers , and  get  the  best  terms  I can . ’ ’ And  he 
turned  at  once  and  galloped  away  with  a few  followers 
towards  army  headquarters.  After  much  difficulty 
and  some  risks,  he  finally  reached  Ft.  Sill  and  gave 
himself  up,  promising  to  secure  to  the  government  all 
of  those  who  continued  on  the  warpath,  if  they  did 
not  surrender  by  a certain  time. 

But  Tahan  joined  Za-ko-yea,  who  went  on  west- 
ward, making  raids  wherever  he  could  find  people  to 


126  Andc/c,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

murder,  or  plunder  to  steal.  It  was  difficult  to  catch 
these  marauding  bands  at  that  time,  for  there  was  such 
a vast  unoccupied  territory  over  which  to  roam,  and 
plenty  of  wild  game  upon  which  to  subsist.  But  the 
United  States  troops  continued  to  wage  war  upon  them 
with  the  purpose  of  putting  down  every  marauding 
band.  Most  of  the  Indian  chiefs  had  come  in  and 
surrendered,  except  Za-ko-yea,  and  he  had  committed 
so  many  depradations  that  he  was  afraid  to  surrender, 
lest  he  should  be  killed  without  mercy.  But  he  saw 
that  he  would  eventually  be  caught,  and  he  began  to 
study  what  he  should  do.  If  he  could  conceal  his 
identity  and  surrender,  or  if  he  could  in  some  way 
prevent  proof  of  his  bloodshed  and  plunder,  or  manage 
to  fasten  it  on  others,  he  might  be  safe  in  surrendering. 
He  felt  that  so  far  as  the  testimony  of  the  Indians 
was  concerned  he  was  safe,  for  he  was  chief  and  they 
dare  not  tell  anything  against  him.  As  he  thought 
thus  he  glanced  at  Tahan,  who  had  been  with  him  in 
all  his  murder  and  plunder,  and  had  aided  him  with  a 
ruthless  hand.  He  thought: 

“Tahan  is  a white  man.  If  I go  in  and  surrender 
and  Tahan  with  me,  he  will  be  induced  to  tell  on  me. 
It  is  true  he  has  shown  himself  in  all  our  wars  true  to 
the  Indian,  and  he  knows  nothing  of  the  white  man’s 


Andele , or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  127 

talk  and  ways,  but  in  his  veins  courses  the  white  man's 
blood,  and  a like  spirit  that  may  soon  spring  up  in 
friendship  if  he  once  becomes  familiar  with  them." 

The  thought  of  this  disturbed  him,  and  while  he 
studied  about  it  he  decided  that  it  would  never  do  to 
let  Tahan  be  taken  b}r  the  white  man.  It  would  mean 
death  to  him.  The  bare  thought  of  being  betrayed  by 
Tahan  angered  him,  although  there  was  not  the  least 
ground  for  suspicion,  for  Tahan  hated  white  men  as 
bad  as  any  Indian,  and  had  proven  it  by  the  many 
bloody  deeds  committed  upon  them. 

But  Za-ko-yea  was  in  desperate  mental  surmisings, 
and  the  bare  imagination  of  Tahan ’s  betrayal  haunted 
him.  This  desperate  state  grew  more  severe,  till  in  a 
fit  of  frenzy,  he  whirled  around  and  with  a trembling 
but  desperate  hand  drew  his  bow  and  sent  an  arrow 
whizzing  through  the  heart  of  Tahan.  Tahan  looked 
with  a wondering,  despairing  look,  and  without  an 
utterance  fell  backwards,  dead. 

Za-ko-yea  looked  upon  him  for  awhile  as  he  lay 
there  upon  the  prairie  sand,  and  then  turned  away 
with  that  last  look  of  Tahan  forever  riveted  upon  his 
mind.  He  was  left  lying  there  to  be  fed  upon  by  the 
wolf  and  the  vulture;  but  Za-ko-yea,  savage  as  he 
was,  carried  the  vision  of  his  dying  face  upon  his 


128  A7idele,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive. 


guilty  conscience  to  the'  end  of  his  days.  He  would 
have  given  the  world,  doubtless,  could  he  call  back 
the  deed. 

This  story  of  Tahan’s  end  is  left  in  some  doubt, 
for  some  of  the  Indians  say,  and  Za-ko-yea  himself  so 
claims,  that  after  the  fight  with  the  soldiers  near  Llano, 
in  their  retreat  across  the  prairie,  in  an  almost  barren 
region,  Tahan  was  overcome  with  heat  and  thirst, 
could  get  no  water,  and  that  he  fell  by  the  way  and 


died. 


za-ko-yea’s  son  and  grandson. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


Indian  Census  Taken  by  Capt.  R.  H.  Pratt. 

Not  long  after  Xapawat  surrendered,  and  was  en- 
camped with  his  band  near  Ft.  Sill,  Capt.  R.  H.  Pratt 
was  ordered  by  the  government  to  take  a census  of  the 
Indians.-  Day  after  day  he  went  out  to  Napawat’s 
camp  to  enroll  the  names  of  the  Indians  upon  the 
census  book.  As  each  name  was  called,  the  Indian 
had  to  appear  for  himself,  and  answer  such  questions 
through  the  interpreter  as  were  asked  him.  Finally, 
Andele  was  called,  and  as  soon  as  Capt.  Pratt  saw  him, 
he,  with  the  other  soldiers,  gathered  around  him,  for 
the}’  saw  that  he  was  a captive  Mexican.  Andele 
became  alarmed,  and  also  very  much  angered,  when 
they  came  around  him  and  began  to  scrutinize  him  so 
closely.  They  were  talking  vers’  earnestly  about  him, 
but  he  could  not  understand  a word  they  were  saying, 
and  if  there  were  any  Indians  present  who  did  under- 
stand, they  did  not  care  for  Andele  to  know,  but  they 
rather  added  to  his  aversion  to  the  white  man  by  tell- 
ing him  such  things  as  would  alarm  his  fears.  As 
soon  as  they  quit  noticing  him  and  left  him  alone,  he 

129 


130  Andele,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive. 

drew  up  over  his  head  and  close  around  his  face  his 
buffalo  robe  so  that  he  might  not  be  seen  so  easily, 
and  afterwards  kept  as  much  as  possible  out  of  sight 
of  the  soldiers. 

However,  sometime  after  this,  Agent  Tatum,  hear- 
ing of  a young  Mexican  captive  among  the  Kiowas, 
sent  for  him.  Mr.  Tatum  had  already  recovered  four- 
teen white  and  twelve  Mexican  captives  from  the 
Indians,  and  he  hoped  to  be  able  to  identify  this  one 
and  return  him  to  his  people.  Andele  was  brought 
into  Mr.  Tatum’s  office,  all  the  while  in  much  dread, 
as  Napawat  was  going  with  him  to  the  office.  To  his 
surprise,  however,  the  white  agent  got  up  from  his 
seat  and  with  a smiling,  kindly  face  met  him  as  he 
went  into  the  office  and  shook  hands  with  him.  He 
was  surprised  at  this,  and  he  could  not  understand  it; 
for  he  could  not  understand  a word  that  the  agent  was 
saying,  but  he  could  see  the  spirit  of  friendship  in  him, 
and  his  fears  largefy  passed  away.  Agent  Tatum  tried 
to  find  out  where  he  was  captured,  and  about  his  people, 
but  he  could  get  no  clue  to  his  origin.  The  Kiowas 
could  only  tell  that  they  bought  him  from  the  Apaches. 
Andele  had  some  recollection  of  home  and  loved  ones, 
but  he  dare  not  tell. 

Mr.  Tatum,  hoping  still  to  do  something  for 


Andele , or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  131 

Andele,  asked  Napawat  to  let  Andele  go  to  school. 
Napawat  objected.  The  agent  then  asked  that  Andele 
be  allowed  to  remain  in  his  office,  but  still  Napawat 
objected.  And  so  he  went  back  to  camp. 

Tatum,  however,  continued  his  efforts  to  get  Andele, 
when,  one  day,  Napawat  said,  “Now  you  and  I are 
good  friends  and  I don’t  like  to  refuse  your  request, 
and  I will  let  Andele  decide  for  himself.  If  he  wishes 
to  come  and  stay  in  your  office,  or  go  to  school,  I will 
agree  to  it;  but  I will  let  him  decide  it.’’ 

Mr.  Tatum  told  Napawat  that  was  good,  and 
directed  him  to  get  Andele  and  bring  him  to  the  office. 
Napawat  put  on  the  air  of  honesty  in  the  matter,  but 
before  taking  Andele  to  the  office,  he  gave  him  full 
instructions  how  to  answer  the  agent,  and  used  both 
honeyed  words  and  threats  lest  he  should  answer  other- 
wise than  he  directed. 

Of  course,  therefore,  when  Agent  Tatum  made  his 
proposition  to  Andele  it  was  answered  by  a flat  and 
positive  refusal.  And  that,  according  to  agreement, 
settled  the  matter. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


Startling  Incidents.  Rescue  oe  Captives. 

♦ 

Before  passing  on,  it  will  be  of  interest  to  relate  a 
series  of  events  in  this  connection  which  took  place 
from  1869  to  1873.  Under  President  Grant’s  peace 
policy,  Laurie  Tatum,  a Friend,  was  appointed  agent 
for  the  Kiowas,  Comanches  and  Apaches,  and  on  July 
1,  1869,  undertook  the  duties  of  that  office,  with 
agency  headquarters  near  Ft.  Sill. 

At  that  time  there  was  one  band  of  Comanches, 

the  Quo-ja-les,  who  wandered  westward  towards  the 

Rocky  Mountains,  living  on  buffalo  and  other  wild 

game,  and  who  refused  to  report  at  the  agency  at  all. 

In  frequent  raids  they  stole  horses  from  Texas,  and 

traded  them  to  illicit  traders  in  New  Mexico  for  arms 

and  ammunition.  They  ridiculed  the  other  Indians 

for  submission  to  the  white  man,  and,  continuing 

their  marauding  expeditions,  they  formed  a nucleus 

for  other  Indians  who  were  warlike  and  restless  under 

the  white  man’s  rule.  They  sent  Agent  Tatum  word 

that  they  would  never  come  to  the  agency  and  shake 

132 


Ande/e,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive.  133 

hands  till  the  soldiers  came  out  to  fight  them,  and 
then,  if  they  were  whipped,  they  would  come. 

They  thus  set  at  defiance  all  authority  till  the  fall 
of  1S72,  when  General  McKenzie,  following  them  on 
one  of  their  raids  in  Texas,  surprised  them  and  took 
one  hundred  of  their  women  and  children  and  carried 
them  away  prisoners.  Soon  after,  the  Ouo-ja-les 
reported  at  the  agency,  acknowledged  their  defeat, 
expressed  their  readiness  to  submit,  and  asked  that 
their  women  and  children  be  returned  to  them. 

“But,”  said  Agent  Tatum,  “you  must  first  bring 
all  the  white  and  Mexican  captives  you  have  in  your 
band.” 

Perry-o-Cuin,  the  Quo-ja-les  chief,  did  not  expect 
such  a demand,  and  stood  in  stolid  silence  for  some 
minutes,  but  seeing  the  determined  look  in  Tatum's 
face,  he  gave  instruction  to  his  band  to  bring  in  the 
captives. 

In  a little  while  they  brought  in  Adolph  Kon  and 
Clinton  Smith,  two  Texas  boys,  and  two  others  who 
had  forgotten  their  names  and  every  word  of  English. 
They  remembered  some  of  the  incidents  of  their  capt- 
ure, and  taking  these  as  a clue,  Agent  Tatum  adver- 
tised in  the  Texas  and  Kansas  papers,  and  at  last 
found  their  parents.  Their  names  proved  to  be  Tern- 


134  Andele,  or  The  M exica n -Kiowa  Captive. 

pie  Friend  and  Valentine  Maxie.  Twelve  captive 
Mexicans  were  also  thus  rescued,  and  one  case,  that 
of  little  Presleano,  was  of  special  interest. 

There  was  the  air  of  superiority  about  him.  He  was 
bright,  talkative,  quick  to  apprehend,  and  sprightly 
in  movement.  He  seemed  to  have  been  a pet  in  the 
home  and  heart  of  old  Perry-o-Cum,  the  chief,  and  the 
boy  loved  the  chief.  Perry-o-Cum  knew  that,  and  felt 
sure  that  if  it  was  left  to  the  choice  of  the  boy  he 
would  not  be  forced  to  give  him  up.  So  Perry-o-Cum 
spoke  up  thus: 

“Agent  Tatum,  I am  willing  to  give  up  all  these 
other  prisoners.  It  is  right  that  I should,  and  you 
have  a right  to  demand  it,  for  they  belong  to  your 
nation.  But  this  boy  is  a Mexican,  captured  in 
Mexico,  and  he  does  not  belong  to  your  government, 
and  you  have  no  special  right  to  him.  I love  him  as 
my  own  son,  and  he  loves  me.  I can  not  part  from 
him,  and  I know  he  wants  to  remain  with  me.  If 
you  will  not  force  him  away,  but  leave  it  to  his  own 
choice,  I shall  be  satisfied.’ 

Tatum  watched  the  intense  anxiety  of  Perry-o-Cum 
as  he  spoke,  and  waited  a little  while  before  he 
replied.  At  last  he  said: 

“ Perry-o-Cum,  what  you  say  is  good  as  to  giving 


Andele , or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive.  135 

the  boy  his  choice,  and  if  you  will  let  him  remain 
here  till  the  afternoon,  we  will  find  out  what  is  his 
choice.”  This  was  readily  agreed  to,  and  the  chief 
went  away,  leaving  the  boy  in  the  agent’s  office. 

The  agent  had  a good  dinner  prepared,  of  which 
the  boy  partook  with  much  relish;  and  while  he  was 
feeling  particularly  comfortable  from  the  surroundings, 
and  the  kindness  shown  him,  the  chief  was  summoned 
to  the  office  again.  A Mexican  interpreter  had  been 
secured,  and  after  petting  the  boy  awhile,  Tatum  began 
talking  to  him  about  his  father  and  mother,  not  know- 
ing that  they  were  dead,  and  that  the  little  boy  had  no 
memory  of  any  father  and  mother,  save  old  Perry-o-Cum 
and  his  wife.  So  when  he  put  the  question,  “ Do  you 
wish  to  remain  with  Perry-o-Cum,  or  do  you  want  to 
go  back  to  your  own  people,”  to  the  delight  of  Perry- 
o-Cum,  he  said  he  wanted  to  remain  with  him. 

“ But  don’t  you  want  to  see  your  brothers  and  sis- 
ters? Don’t  you  want  to  go  to  them?  ” 

The  little  boy  dropped  his  eyes  in  thoughtfulness  a 
moment.  The  memories  of  home  began  to  dawn  upon 
him,  and  when  he  looked  up  again,  he  said,  slowly 
and  with  a serious  look  upon  his  face,  11 1 want  to  go 
home.” 

‘‘Then  I will  send  you,”  said  Agent  Tatum,  and 


136  Andele , or  The  Mexican-Kiowci  Captive. 

as  lie  looked  across  the  room  at  Perry-o-Cum,  he  saw 
the  tears  chasing  each  other  down  his  otherwise  stolid 
cheeks,  but  he  was  caught  in  his  own  proposition  and 
he  felt  he  must  submit.  The  boy  was  returned  to  his 
people  in  Mexico,  through  General  Auger,  commander 
of  the  military  post  at  San  Antonio. 

On  July  10,  1870,  a band  of  Kiowas  went  to  the 
home  of  Gottlieb  Koozer,  in  Texas.  Mr.  Koozer  was 
not  aware  of  the  Indians’  approach  till  he  saw  them 
in  the  yard,  and  being  defenseless,  he  decided  it  was 
best  to  show  a friendly  spirit  toward  them,  so  he  went 
out  to  meet  them,  and  offered  his  hand  in  friendship. 
Two  of  them  took  hold  of  his  hands  at  the  same  time 
in  apparent  friendship,  while  an  other,  stepping  a lit- 
tle to  one  side,  shot  him  through  the  heart.  They 
scalped  him,  and  then  went  into  the  house,  destroyed 
what  they  found  therein:  dresses,  feather  beds  and 
many  other  things.  They  took  Mrs.  Koozer  and  her 
five  children  — one  a young  lad)r,  one  small  girl,  and 
three  boys  — and  also  a young  man  by  the  name  of 
Martin  B.  Kilgore,  who  was  about  fourteen  years  of 
age,  and  started  back  to  their  reservation. 

As  soon  as  news  of  this  outrage  was  received  at 
Ft.  Sill,  Agent  Tatum  determined  to  rescue  the  pris- 
oners, and  find  out  and  punish,  if  possible,  the  depre- 


Andelc,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  137 

dators.  He  announced  to  the  Indians  what  he  had 
heard,  and  declared  that  he  would  never  issue  any 
more  government  supplies  to  them  till  they  brought 
the  prisoners  in.  They  demanded  a ransom,  for,  two 
years  before,  they  had  been  paid  $1,500.00  each  for 
some  captives.  He  sent  a letter  to  Mrs.  Koozer  by 
the  hands  of  a trusty  Indian,  on  the  7th  of  August, 
1870.  On  the  1 8th  of  August  the  Indians,  giving  up 
any  idea  of  fighting,  went  to  the  agency  with  their 
wives  and  children. 

Whenever  Indians  are  not  expecting  a fight,  they 
take  with  them  their  wives  and  children  everywhere 
they  go,  but  when  war  is  expected,  they  send  them  all 
away  together  in  care  of  the  old  men.  When,  there- 
fore, women  and  children  are  in  sight  there  is  assur- 
ance of  peace. 

They  had  two  of  the  Koozer  family,  Miss  Koozer 
and  her  little  sister,  with  them.  The  little  one,  who 
had  not  seen  her  mother  for  several  days,  began  cry- 
ing, but  was  forced  to  hush.  Indians  do  not  allow 
their  captives  to  cry.  The  soldiers  became  indignant, 
and  stepped  forward  to  take  the  captives;  but  in  an 
instant  the  Indians  pointed  a dagger  at  the  heart  of 
the  girls.  The  soldiers  did  not  proceed  further,  for  it 
meant  sure  and  instant  death  to  the  girls.  The  Indians 


138  Andele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

took  them  away,  but  seeing  they  could  not  change 
Agent  Tatum  from  his  purpose  to  withhold  all  govern- 
ment supplies  till  the  prisoners  were  delivered,  b}r  1 1 
o’clock  the  two  girls  and  two  boys  were  brought  in 
and  delivered  to  him.  A Mexican  Kiowa  had  the 
mother,  and  he  was  stubborn  and  insisted  upon  a 
ransom — “a  mule  and  a carbine.” 

Having  delivered  the  above  four,  the  Indians  called 
for  the  supplies,  but  were  informed  that  all  of  the 
prisoners  must  be  brought  in  first.  Very  soon  Mrs. 
Koozer  and  the  other  boy  were  brought  in;  but  they 
had  left  young  Kilgore  at  their  camp  out  many  miles 
upon  the  reservation.  Agent  Tatum  then  paid  the 
Indians  $100.00  apiece  for  the  captives,  lest  in  the 
future  they  should  kill  all  they  found  on  their  maraud- 
ing expeditions  instead  of  taking  them  captive.  He 
then  issued  them  the  usual  government  supplies,  with 
the  understanding  that  he  would  issue  no  more  till 
M.  B.  Kilgore  was  delivered  to  him. 

The  Koozer  family  were  a pitiable  sight.  Nobody 
can  describe  what  Mrs.  Koozer  and  her  daughter  suf- 
fered, till  they  found  some  protection  and  relief  from 
an  Indian  woman  who  seemed  to  have  more  than  the 
usual  influence  of  a woman  among  the  Indians.  Mrs. 
Koozer  was  appropriated  by  a Mexican  Kiowa  as  his 


Andele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  139 

wife,  and  he  was  very  cruel  to  her,  trying  twice  to  kill 
her,  but  she  was  each  time  protected  by  the  chiefs. 

Three  days  later  Colonel  Grierson  sent  a detachment 
of  soldiers  to  conduct  Mrs.  Koozer  and  her  children 
to  Montague,  Texas,  from  which  place  she  reached 
her  home  in  safety.  After  the  awful  scenes  of  the 
past  month  and  a half,  what  a home ! 

These  were  the  last  captives  for  whom  any  ransom 
was  ever  paid.  Soon  after  this,  another  trial  was 
made  to  extort  a ransom  for  prisoners  that  utterly 
failed.  It  was  about  the  time  of  the  arrest  of  old 
Satanta  and  others.  Old  White  Horse  and  six  other 
Kiowa  men  and  one  woman  went  to  Texas,  murdered 
Mr.  Lee  and  his  wife  and  took  captive  their  three  chil- 
dren, Susan,  aged  sixteen;  Millie,  aged  nine,  and 
John,  aged  six.  As  soon  as  it  was  known  at  Ft.  Sill, 
Agent  Tatum  suspended  all  government  issues  to  the 
Indians  till  the  captives  should  be  brought  in. 

This  was  delayed  by  a proposed  council,  in  which 
delegates  from  the  civilized  tribes  were  to  be  present. 
These  civilized  tribes  hoped  by  their  delegates  to  per- 
suade the  wild  tribes  to  quit  raiding  and  be  peaceable. 
The  council  was  set  for  July  22,  1872,  at  old  Ft.  Cobb, 
but  the  Kiowas  did  not  go  there  till  ten  days  after. 

White  Horse  was  stubborn,  and  declared  that  he 


140  Andele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

did  not  want  peace,  but  said  that  he  and  his  young 
men  would  raid  when  and  where  they  pleased.  Lone 
Wolf  said  they  would  return  prisoners  in  their  poses- 
sion  when  Satanta  and  Big  Tree  were  returned  from 
the  penitentiary,  all  the  military  posts  removed  from 
the  reservation,  and  their  reservation  extended  from 
the  Rio  Grande  to  the  Missouri  River. 

The  delegates  of  the  civilized  tribes  and  Kicking  Bird 
tried  to  pacify  White  Horse  and  Lone  Wolf  and  other 
warlike  Indians,  but  they  could  do  but  little.  Agent 
Tatum  adhered  to  his  purpose  to  issue  no  more  rations 
till  the  Lee  children  were  brought  in,  and  about  a 
month  later  they  delivered  the  two  girls  to  Agent  Rich- 
ards at  the  Wichita  Agency,  and  they  were  sent  under 
care  of  “Caddo  George,”  a trusty  Caddo,  to  Agent 
Tatum  at  Ft.  Sill.  The  boy  was  brought  in  two  weeks 
later,  and  on  the  same  day  an  older  brother  arrived 
from  Texas  and  took  them  home. 

These  were  the  last  captives  the  Kiowas  ever  took. 
It  had  become  unprofitable  and  exceedingly  dangerous, 
for,  as  Texas  became  more  thickh^  settled,  the  people 
determined  to  put  a stop  to  Indian  raids,  and  they  were 
ready  to  exterminate  the  warlike  tribes,  if  necessary,  to 
accomplish  that  end.  The  government,  too,  was  pro- 
ceeding by  legal  process  to  punish  those  who  were  guilty. 


Andcle , or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  141 

Reference  was  made  above  to  Satanta  and  Big 
Bow’s  imprisonment  in  the  penitentiary.  On  May  23, 
1871,  General  Sherman  called  at  Agent  Tatum’s 
office,  and  inquired  if  Tatum  knew  of  any  Indian 
band  having  gone  to  Texas  recently.  He  said  a 
part}’  of  Indians,  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  in 
number,  had  attacked  a wagon  train  of  ten  wagons, 
seventeen  miles  from  Ft.  Richardson,  killing  train- 
master and  six  teamsters.  Five  escaped.  He  gave 
orders  for  McKenzie,  with  all  the  available  troops  at 
Ft.  Richardson,  to  follow  them  with  thirty  days’ 
rations,  but  as  yet  he  had  heard  nothing  from  the 
pursuit. 

Tatum  knew  nothing,  but  said  that  he  thought  he 
could  find  out  in  a few  days.  Four  days  later  the 
Indians  came  to  the  agency  for  rations,  and  Agent 
Tatum  invited  the  chiefs  into  his  office.  He  told  them 
of  the  tragedy  reported  to  him  by  General  Sherman, 
and  asked  if  they  knew  anything  about  it;  that  he 
relied  upon  them  for  the  truth,  and  was  sure  that  they 
would  tell  him.  Satanta,  after  a moment’s  silence, 
arose,  and  in  the  spirit  of  arrogance  and  fiendish  hate, 
thus  addressed  the  agent: 

“Yes,  I led  that  raid.  I have  been  told  that  you 
have  stolen  a large  amount  of  our  annuity  goods 


142  A?idele , or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

and  given  them  to  the  Texans.  I have  repeatedly 
asked  for  arms  and  ammunition  which  have  not  been 
furnished,  and  made  other  requests  which  have  not 
been  granted.  You  do  not  listen  to  my  talk.  The 
white  people  are  preparing  to  build  a railroad  through 
our  country,  which  will  not  be  permitted.  Some 
years  ago  we  were  taken  by  our  locks  and  forcibly 
pulled  here  close  to  Texas,  where  we  have  to  fight  the 
Texas  man.  Some  years  ago,  you  remember,  General 
Custer  ordered  me  arrested  and  placed  in  prison  for 
several  days.  The  memory  of  that  outrage  rankles  in 
my  soul  till  now,  and  will  till  the  last  white  man  goes 
down  and  rots  into  the  dust  again.  Understand  this, 
that  no  more  Kiowas  are  ever  to  be  arrested.  On 
account  of  these  grievances,  a short  time  ago,  I took 
about  one  hundred  of  my  young  warriors,  whom 
I wished  to  train  to  fight,  to  Texas,  with  the  chiefs, 
Satank,  Eagle  Heart,  Big  Tree,  Big  Bow  and  Fast 
Bear.  We  found  a mule  train  which  we  captured. 
We  killed  seven  of  the  men,  and  three  of  my  men 
were  killed,  but  I am  willing  to  call  it  even,  and 
it  is  not  necessary  to  say  anything  further  about  it, 
except  to  say  that  we  do  not  expect  to  do  any  more 
raiding  this  summer,  but  I want  you  to  understand 
that  I led  that  Texas  raid,  and  if  anyone  else  claims 


And.de,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  143 

the  honor  of  it,  he  will  be  lying,  for  I am  the  man.” 

He  sat  down,  and  Satank,  Big  Tree  and  Eagle 
Heart,  who  were  present,  confirmed  the  statement.  As 
soon  as  Agent  Tatum  could  get  away,  he  left  his  office, 
hurried  to  the  fort  and  requested  Col . Grierson  to  arrest 
the  six  chiefs  who  had  been  participants  in  that  raid. 

Scarcely  had  the  order  been  given,  when  Satanta 
took  the  fort  interpreter  and  proceeded  to  Col.  Grier- 
son’s office.  He  had  heard  that  a big  Washington 
chief  (General  Sherman)  was  there,  and  he  wanted  to 
see  how  he  measured  up  with  him.  He  was  promptly 
arrested.  Col.  Grierson  sent  for  Satank  and  Eagle 
Heart.  Satank  reached  the  office,  and  was  also 
arrested,  and  Big  Tree  was  found  just  outside,  and 
while  he  was  being  arrested  Eagle  Heart  took  the 
alarm  and  fled.  Kicking  Bird,  who  had  for  a long 
time  been  friendly  and  peaceable,  plead  for  the  release 
of  the  prisoners;  but  here  was  the  opportunity  of 
impressing  a great  lesson  upon  the  Indians,  and  they 
must  learn  it. 

A few  days  after  these  arrests,  Col.  McKenzie 
arrived  from  Ft.  Richardson.  Heavy  rains  had  oblit- 
erated the  tracks  of  the  raiders  so  they  could  not  be 
followed,  so  he  had  pressed  on  to  Ft.  Sill,  believing 
that  the  marauding  band  came  from  the  Kiowa  tribe. 


144  Andele , or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

The  prisoners  were  placed  in  his  charge,  and  in  a few 
days  he  started  with  them  to  Texas  for  trial.  Satank 
was  so  refractor}"  that  he  was  put  into  a wagon  with 
two  soldiers,  and  Satanta  and  Big  Tree  into  another. 
They  were  all  heavily  manacled.  George  Washington, 
a Caddo  Indian,  rode  on  horseback  along  by  the 
wagon.  This  was  May  28,  1871. 

“My  friend,’’  said  Satank  to  George,  “ I wish  to 
send  by  you  a little  message  to  my  people.  Tell  them 
that  I am  dead,  I died  the  first  day  out,  and  my  bones 
will  be  lying  on  the  roadside.  I wish  my  people  to 
gather  them  up  and  take  them  home.’’ 

Satanta  also  sent  a message:  “Tell  my  people  to 
take  forty-one  mules  that  we  stole  from  Texas  to  the 
agent,  as  he  and  Col.  Grierson  requires.  Don’t  commit 
any  more  depradations  around  Ft.  Sill  or  in  Texas.’’ 

In  a little  while  Satank  began  to  sing  his  death 
song.  He  was  still  in  sight  of  the  post — scarcely  a 
mile  away.  With  his  back  to  the  guards,  he  slipped 
the  shackles  from  his  wrists  by  taking  the  skin  with 
them.  He  seized  a butcherknife  that  in  some  myste- 
ious  way  had  been  concealed  upon  his  person,  and 
started  for  the  guards  in  the  front  part  of  the  wagon. 
He  struck  at  one  of  them,  but  missing  his  body  made 
a slight  wound  in  his  leg.  Both  of  the  guards  jumped 


Andele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  145 

from  the  wagon  leaving  their  guns.  Fortunately  the 
guns  were  not  loaded. 

Satank  seized  one  and  began  loading,  declaring  it 
would  be  sweet  to  die,  if  only  he  could  kill  one  more 
“pale  face.’’  But,  as  he  was  pushing  in  the  cartridge 
to  its  place,  several  shots  from  the  other  guards  put  an 
end  to  Satank 's  efforts.  He  fell  from  the  wagon,  and  in 
about  twenty  minutes  died  in  great  agony,  gritting  his 
teeth  in  defiance  to  the  end.  By  order  of  Col.  Grierson 
his  body  was  buried  at  Ft.  Sill;  but  he  gave  the  Indians 
the  privilege  of  taking  it  up  and  burying  it  elsewhere 
if  they  chose;  but  they  never  moved  it. 

Satanta  and  Big  Tree  were  taken  on  to  Jacksboro, 
Texas,  and  tried  for  murder.  Satanta  was  found 
guilty  and  sentenced  to  be  hung,  but  his  sentence  was 
commuted  to  life  imprisonment.  He  entered  the 
Texas  penitentiary,  November  2,  1871.  Upon  recom- 
mendation of  President  Grant,  Governor  Davis,  of 
Texas,  let  Satanta  out,  August  9,  1873,  upon  parole, 
conditioned  upon  good  behavior.  He  violated  his 
parole  and  was  re-arrested  by  General  Sheridan  and 
sent  back  to  the  penitentiary,  November  8,  1873. 
After  five  years  of  a reticent,  stoical  life  in  the  peniten- 
tiary, he  committed  suicide,  Oct.  n,  1878,  by  jumping 
out  of  the  second  story  window  of  the  prison  hospital. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


Andele  is  Disgusted  with  Indian  Medicine. 

The  events  related,  in  the  last  few  chapters  made  a 
profound  impression  upon  Andele,  and  had  a tendency 
to  change  the  whole  current  of  his  thoughts  and  pur- 
poses. Could  he  have  understood  the  white  man’s 
tongue  and  known  the  effort  that  the  agent  had  made 
to  get  him  out  of  the  clutches  of  the  Indians  and  the 
Indian  ways,  his  life  for  the  next  few  years  following 
would  have  been  quite  different.  As  it  was,  for  some- 
time he  kept  as  much  as  possible  out  of  sight  of  the 
agent  and  the  soldiers,  lest  he  should  be  taken  by  force 
from  the  Indians  and  carried,  he  knew  not  where. 
The  Indians  had  so  impressed  him  that  he  feared  the 
whites,  and  he  thought  it  was  safe  to  stay  away  from 
them . 

These  scenes  of  sickening  carnage  and  defeat  had 
knocked  the  ‘ ‘ buffalo  medicine  ’ ’ out  of  his  purpose 
entirely,  and  he  determined  to  follow  more  peaceful 
pursuits.  He  began  to  turn  his  attention  more  partic- 
ularly to  the  course  of  Indian  medicine  for  the  sick, 

but  he  was  doomed  very  soon  to  disappointment  and 

146 


Andele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  147 

disgust  in  this  also,  for,  in  the  early  part  of  1873,  Na- 
pawat  fell  sick,  and,  in  spite  of  all  the  superstitious 
performances  of  the  medicine  men,  died.  Onkoite, 
his  brother,  succeeded  him  and  took  up  Napawat’s 
“ medicine.” 

By  permission  of  the  government,  he  made  two 
big  dances  in  their  superstitious  worship,  but  he 
also  fell  sick.  Andele  did  all  he  could  himself,  but 
felt  that  he  was  too  young  in  the  cause  to  trust  his 
own  skill  in  exorcising  the  evil  spirits  of  disease,  or 
applying  whatever  real  remedies  that  Indians  had  any 
knowledge  of.  Indians  have  some  real  remedies,  but 
the  difficulty  with  them  is,  that  if  they^  hit  upon  some 
remedy  that  is  good  in  one  disease,  they  conclude  that 
it  is  good  in  all  diseases,  and  apply  it  accordingly. 
The  reason  of  this  is,  that  they  believe  there  is  a spirit 
in  the  medicine,  and  if  that  spirit  is  friendly  to  them 
in  one  case,  it  will  be  in  all  cases.  And  this  is  also 
the  reason  they  sing  and  worship  and  go  through  a 
wild,  weird  performance  while  applying  any  real  medi- 
cine. Whether  they  apply  a real  remedy,  or  merely 
go  through  with  a performance,  they  call  it  all  ‘‘mak- 
ing medicine.”  Sometimes  they  ‘‘make  medicine”  to 
bring  rain  or  bring  about  some  other  desired  thing. 

Andele  was  anxious  to  get  Onkoite  cured.  So  he 


148  Andele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

Avent  for  the  best  medicine  men  in  the  nation.  He 
first  got  To-no-kup,  a tall  eagle-eyed  old  Indian,  who 
was  famed  among  his  people  as  a physician.  There 
are  certain  things  that  the  medicine-man  demands  for 
his  sendees  and  that  must  be  given  in  order  to  make 
the  medicine  effective.  In  addition  to  these  things, 
other  things  are  to  be  given  at  the  discretion  of  the 
patient's  family  or  friends.  In  this  case  To-no-kup 
demanded  a horse  and  some  eagle  feathers.  Andele 
promised  these  things  in  behalf  of  Onkoite,  and  then 
also  promised  four  other  things  of  value. 

After  everything  was  complete,  the  medicine-man 
approached  the  sick  man's  tepee,  and  after  some  incan- 
tations at  the  door,  he  entered.  He  sat  down,  lit  his 
pipe,  and  smoked,  offering  the  smoke  as  he  puffed  it 
from  his  mouth  in  prayer  to  the  sun.  He  then  began 
to  apply  suction  with  his  mouth  to  the  throat  and 
chest  of  the  patient  and  spitting  out  before  all  the 
accumulations  gathered  in  his  mouth. 

Finally,  with  much  affectation,  he  spat  out  a small 
fish  with  a vessel  of  water.  He  declared  that  now  the 
patient  would  be  all  right,  for  the  cause  of  his  suffer- 
ing was  now  taken  out.  He  took  his  pony,  eagle 
feathers,  and  other  things  and  went  away. 

Onkoite  continued  to  grow  worse.  Andele  went 


Andele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  149 

for  Pho-do-dle,  who  came,  after  assurance  of  ample 
remuneration,  and  going  through  the  usual  ceremony 
of  smoking  and  worship  to  the  sun,  he  applied  suction 
to  the  throat,  chest  and  abdomen  of  the  sufferer,  and 
finally  spat  out  upon  the  floor  of  the  tepee  a small 
but  living  snake.  He  looked  on  with  affected  horror,* 
then  killed  the  snake  and  buried  it  near  the  center 
of  the  tepee.  The  case  is  surely  cured  now,  so  de- 
clared the  medicine-man,  and  so  thought  Andele. 
Pho-do-dle  took  his  fee  and  left. 

But  to  Andele’s  surprise,  Onkoite  still  grew  worse, 
and  next  he  went  for  Zon-ko,  or  Ee-e-pan,  a man  of 
much  note,  whose  medicine  was  supposed  to  be  good. 
Zon-ko  came,  demanding  the  same  assurance  from  An- 
dele of  a good  fee,  and  after  a similar  worship  with 
the  others  he  also  applied  suction  in  the  name  of  his 
special  god,  to  the  man’s  throat  and  chest  and  abdo- 
men, and  at  last  spat  out  a small  turtle. 

These  other  doctors,”  said  Zon-ko,  “were  lying, 
and  their  medicine  was  no  good,  but  Onkoite  will  now 
get  well  quick ; for  how  could  a man  get  well  with 
such  a creature  as  that  in  him  ?” 

Andele  was  sure  now  that  the  disease  was  cured, 
and  very  soon  Onkoite  would  get  up,  and  he  wished 
as  he  looked  at  Zon-ko,  that  he  had  his  skill  for  heal- 


150  Andele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

ing  the  sick.  He  hoped  to  have  some  day.  So  he 
paid  Zon-ko,  and  the  old  man  marched  away  as  really 
self-deluded  as  he  had  deluded  others . While  he  knew 
he  had  put  the  young  turtle  into  his  mouth  himself, 
yet  he  felt  that  he  had  fallen  upon  the  very  expedient 
that  his  god  could  use. 

But  Onkoite  grew  worse  now  very  fast.  Andele 
hurried  out  across  the  prairie  to  old  Womte’s  tepee. 

" Womte,”  said  he,  after  he  had  smoked  a little 
while,  “you  must  come  quick,  Onkoite  is  about  to  die. 

I have  had  three  doctors  to  see  him,  and  I thought  in 
each  case  he  was  cured,  but  since  the  last  one  left  him 
he  has  grown  worse  very  fast.  Come  quick,  Womte, 
and  I will  give  you  whatever  you  ask . I want  you  to 
make  your  medicine  strong. 

“ My  medicine  is  good,”  said  Womte,  ‘‘and  I will 
cure  him  ; I'll  come  soon. 

Andele  left  Womte  and  returned  to  Onkoite.  He  was 
failing  fast.  Womte  came  with  usual  ceremony  and 
went  through  the  form  of  worship,  and  as  the  others 
had  done,  he  also  applied  suction,  and  at  last,  with  a 
grunt  of  apparent  satisfaction,  but  only  to  call  notice, 
he  spat  out  upon  the  ground  a lizzard. 

He  killed  the  reptile  and  buried  it  in  the  center  of 
the  tepee,  then  declaring  the  medicine  good,  and  the 


Andele,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive.  15 1 

patient  out  of  further  danger,  he  arose,  took  his  fee, 
and  walked  away.  In  a few  minutes  Onkoite  fell  back 
upon  his  buffalo  robe  and  breathed  no  more.  Womte 
heard  the  howling  of  the  squaws  and  knew  that  his  med- 
icine was  a fraud,  but  little  did  he  care  as  long  as  his 
practice  brought  him  ponies  and  eagle  feathers  and  robes . 

Andele  looked  on  in  blank  astonishment,  but  said 
not  a word.  A complete  revolution  had  taken  place 
in  just  a few  minutes  in  his  convictions  as  to  the  In- 
dian “Medicine  Chiefs.”  He  had  forever  lost  confi- 
dence in  them,  and  as  soon  as  he  met  one  of  them  he 
declared  with  spirit,  “I  have  no  confidence  in  your  med- 
icine; I'll  never  make  another  offering,  nor  pay  another 
thing  to  one  of  you.  I did  want  your  shield  and  to  learn 
your  ways,  but  I want  it  no  longer.  Four  of  you  waited 
on  Onkoite,  and  you  see  he  is  dead.  Each  one  of  you 
declared  he  was  cured,  but  you  see  he  is  dead.  I have 
no  more  faith  in  my  dreams  nor  in  your  medicine.” 

As  he  closed  this  speech  he  turned  away.  It  would 
have  been  a dangerous  speech  that  would  have  brought 
down  the  maledictions  of  the  whole  tribe  had  not  On- 
koite’s  case  been  fresh  in  their  minds.  As  it  was,  the 
convictions  of  the  crowd  who  were  listening  were  with 
him.  This  event  had  much  to  do  with  preparing  An- 
dele for  seeking  a better  way. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


Andele  Marries  — Has  Trouble. 

There  are  three  ways  of  obtaining  a wife  among  the 
Indians.  First,  a young  man  often  steals  his  wife. 
He  will  get  his  own  sister  to  talk  to  the  girl  for  him, 
and  let  her  know  his  heart,  and  if  she  reciprocates,  a 
clandestine  meeting  is  arranged,  and  the  two  go  off 
together,  and  sometimes  can  not  be  found  for  a long 
while.  As  soon  as  the  parents  of  the  girl  find  out 
who  has  their  daughter,  they  go  to  the  home  of  the 
young  man's  father  and  proceed  to  take  everything 
they  can  find  belonging  to  the  family:  robes,  blankets, 
provisions,  and  even  the  tepee  itself.  This  becomes  a 
frolic  enjoyed  by  everyone,  except  the  family  being 
robbed.  Nobody  interferes  or  objects  to  the  robbing, 
unless  the  daughter  who  has  eloped  was  of  doubtful 
character.  In  that  case,  no  price  is  expected  for 
her,  and  none  is  allowed.^  Stumbling  Bear  came 
to  the  writer’s  house  once,  deposited  a lot  of  goods 
and  left  them  a long  time.  One  day  when  he  was 
in,  thinking  he  had  forgotten  about  them,  his  atten- 
tion was  called  to  them,  when  he  said  in  his  good- 

152 


An  dele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  153 

humored  way,  “Me  savey.  Me  no  take  ’em  now. 
May  be  so  pretty  soon  me  boy^  catch  ’em  squaw. 
Indian  all  come  me  camp,  heap  steal  ’em.  Stay 
here,  no  find  'em.  Me  come  catch  em,”and  like  a 
prudent  man  he  foresaw  the  evil  and  provided  against  it. 

The  second  way  of  getting  a wife  is  more  civil.  A 
young  man  falls  in  love  with  a young  woman.  Often 
he  will  take  his  flute,  and  in  stilly  eve  go  somewhere 
near  her  father's  tepee,  and  pour  forth  his  heart  yearn- 
ings in  music,  consisting  of  about  two  notes.  It  is  a 
monotonous  sound,  but  often  it  is  the  sweetest  music 
to  the  girl  as  she  listens.  To  woo  or  be  wooed  is 
fascinating,  and  often  a response  to  this  particular 
method  results  in  a clandestine  meeting  and  elopement 
as  above  described  in  the  first  case. 

The  third  way  is  a straight  out  trade.  The  man 
sees  a woman  whom  he  would  like  to  make  his  wife. 
He  goes  to  the  girl’s  parents  and  proposes  a trade — 
so  many  ponies  or  blankets  or  buffalo  robes  for  the 
girl.  If  it  is  agreeable,  the  trade  is  made,  and  the 
girl  is  given  over  to  the  man  as  soon  as  the  property 
is  delivered.  The  girl,  in  most  cases,  has  no  choice 
in  the  matter,  and  is  not  consulted.  Sometimes,  ten 
or  twelve  year  old  girls  are  thus  traded  off  to  an  old 
man  who  perhaps  has  several  wives  already. 


154  Andele , or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive. 

Andele  had  now  grown  up  and  become  a mature 
young  man,  and  companionship  naturally  became  the 
wish  of  his  heart.  He  had  been  with  eager  eyes, 
watching  the  movements  of  Tonko,  old  Keabi's 
daughter,  and  felt  somewhat  the  movings  of  the  heart 
that  perhaps  Samson  felt  when  he  looked  upon  the 
daughter  of  the  Philistine,  and  she  was  destined  to 
prove  somewhat  of  a Delilah  to  him,  as  we  shall  soon 
see.  Without  speaking  to  her  about  the  matter  at  all, 
he  went  one  day  to  old  Keabi  and  proposed  a trade  for 
his  daughter. 

‘ ' What  will  you  give  me  ? ' ’ said  Keabi . 

“Whatever  you  ask,’’  replied  Andele. 

“ Give  me  one  good  pony  and  two  buffalo  robes,’’ 
said  Keabi.  The  trade  was  closed,  and  Tonko  went 
to  be  Andele ’s  wife. 

But  the  arrangement  was  not  a happy  one,  and 
very  soon  signs  of  unfaithfulness  were  seen  in  Tonko, 
and  one  day  while  Andele  was  gone,  Tonko  eloped 
with  Ton-kea-mo-tle.  Andele  did  not  care, — was 
rather  glad  to  get  rid  of  her  so  easily.  She  did  not 
suit  him,  and  she  was  dissatisfied  with  him.  He  did 
not  even  go  to  ask  her  to  come  back,  and  thus  the 
matter  would  have  ended;  but  Af-poo-dle,  his  Indian 
brother,  thought  this  was  so  out  of  the  Indian  way, 


Andele , or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  155 

that  he  upbraided  Andele  with  cowardice  in  not 
demanding  satisfaction  of  Ton-kea-mo-tle,  as  was  his 
right. 

, “Af-poo-dle,  since  you  brand  me  as  a coward,  you 
get  ready'  for  trouble,  for  you  know,  in  a case  of  this 
kind,  a brother  must  stand  with  a brother,  and  if  I 
have  war  with  Ton-kea-mo-tle,  it  becomes  your  war 
as  well.  You  may  get  ready,  for  I will  call  Ton-kea- 
mo-tle  to  account,  and  we  shall  have  trouble.” 

“All  right, ' ' replied  Af-poo-dle.  ‘ ‘ I am  not  afraid. 
I will  stand  by  you.  My  sleep  would  not  be  sweet, 
if  I deserted  you  in  the  time  of  war.” 

At  once  Andele  mounted  his  pony  and  went  gal- 
loping across  the  prairie  toward  a cluster  of  tepees 
nestling  close  in  the  edge  of  a little  skirt  of  mesquite 
saplings  about  five  miles  in  the  distance.  Reaching 
the  encampment  he  asked  for  Ton-kea-mo-tle. 

“He  is  gone  away  to  Ft.  Sill,  and  will  come  at 
the  setting  of  the  sun , ’ ’ said  an  old  squaw , who  sat 
near  the  entrance  of  the  tepee.  Andele  rode  away 
disappointed,  but  next  morning  he  went  again  to 
Ton-kea-mo-tle's  tepee,  but  was  told  that  he  had  gone 
to  another  village  in  the  distance.  He  rode  away 
again,  and  returned  again,  and  again  Ton-kea-mo-tle 
had  gone  away. 


Andele , or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 


15c 


“I’ll  make  him  see  me,’’  said  Andele  to  himself, 
as  he  rode  out  upon  the  prairie  towards  a herd  of 
ponies  belonging  to  Ton-kea-mo-tle.  In  the  herd  was  a 
very  fine  pony,  Ton-kea-mo-tle’spetand  best  rider.  He 
raised  his  six  shooter  and  with  steady  aim  fired.  The 
horse  fell  dead,  pierced  through  the  heart.  He  then 
killed  two  others  and  rode  away.  “Af-poo-dle,  my 
brother,’’  he  said,  as  he  reached  his  camp  again  and 
dismounted,  “you  may  get  ready,  for  I could  not  get 
Ton-kea-mo-tle  to  meet  me,  and  three  of  his  best 
horses  are  lying  out  upon  the  prairie  yonder,  ready  for 
the  coyotes  or  his  squaws.’’ 

“Umph?”  grunted  Af-poo-dle  in  approval,  but  at 
the  same  time  he  looked  as  if  he  had  rather  there  was 
some  other  way  of  settling  difficulties  than  this  Indian 
way.  He  prepared  for  trouble,  however;  for  he  knew 
a deadly  conflict  was  brewing,  and  he  knew  not  where 
it  would  end. 

In  a few  days  there  was  a large  gathering  of  Indians 
on  Cache  Creek.  The  brothers  of  Ton-kea-mo-tle 
urged  him  to  take  advantage  of  that  occasion  to  sur- 
prise Andele  and  kill  him  without  -warning,  but  Andele 
knew  the  Indian  character  too  well  to  be  off  guard,  so 
he  and  Af-poo-dle  watched  closely  every  movement  of 
Ton-kea-mo-tle  and  his  friends.  It  was  near  the  mid- 


Andele,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive.  157 

die  of  the  day,  when  some  one  warned  Af-poo-dle  of 
Ton-kea-mo-tle ’s  movements  and  purpose.  He  had 
arranged  to  go  off  across  the  prairie,  as  though  leav- 
ing for  his  camp  some  miles  away,  but  to  return  from 
another  direction  and  come  upon  Andele  unexpectedly 
from  a little  canon  near  by.  Learning  this,  Andele 
and  Af-poo-dle  slipped  unnoticed  into  the  entrance  of 
the  canon,  so  that  they  would  have  a commanding 
view  of  its  full  length. 

They  had  but  a short  while  to  wait,  for  they  heard 
voices  not  far  away,  and  upon  nearer  approach,  Andele 
heard  Ton-kea-mo-tle  saying,  “We  will  kill  him;  he 
is  nothing  but  a Mexican,  a captive,  and  yet  he  tries 
to  act  as  if  he  were  a Kiowa,  and  had  the  rights  and 
privileges  of  a Kiowa . ' ’ 

Andele  grasped  his  rifle  more  firmly,  for  in  some 
way  the  whole  crowd  had  on  some  marauding  expedi- 
tion secured  rifles  and  ammunition. 

“ Be  ready  and  firm  and  brave  now,  Af-poo-dle,  for 
the  time  is  come,  and  we  must  prove  ourselves  worthy 
of  a good  wife.  As  for  myself,  I am  ready  to  die,  but 
I will  die  like  a man,  and  I will  get  Ton-kea-mo-tle 
before  I go.  Ready,  quick,"  said  Andele. 

Just  at  that  moment,  Ton-kea-mo-tle  reached  the 
edge  of  the  canon,  and  was  in  the  act  of  descending 


158  Andele,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive. 

the  slope,  when  he  discovered  And6le,  and  Af-poo-dle 
close  beside  him.  He  raised  his  ride,  but  before  he 
could  get  it  to  his  shoulders,  Andele  fired.  It  was  so 
quick  aud  unexpected  that  Ton-kea-mo-tle  and  his 
comrades  rolled  over  an  embankment  and  disappeared. 
Nobody  was  hurt,  for  Andele  had  missed  his  mark, 
but  his  enemy  was  so  panic  stricken  at  his  narrow 
escape  that  he  did  not  return  to  the  condict. 

The  whole  encampment,  however,  rushed  out  to 
see  what  was  the  trouble,  and  demand  an  explanation, 
but  when  it  was  learned  that  Andele  had  been 
wronged  by  Ton-kea-mo-tle  decoying  his  wife  away 
from  him,  he  was  fully  exonerated  for  shooting  at  Ton- 
kea-mo-tle  and  also  for  killing  his  horses. 

This  settled  the  difficulty  for  that  day,  but  it  created 
a breach  that  could  not  be  healed  so  soon.  Three  years 
after  this  occurrence,  Andele  was  riding  along  one  day 
alone,  out  of  sight  of  all  habitations,  and  entering  a 
narrow  passage  way  around  the  mountain  side,  he  dis- 
covered his  old  enemy,  Ton-kea-mo-tle,  approaching. 

“ Now  our  trouble  will  be  settled,  for  here  one  of  us 
will  die.  There  is  110  way  to  avoid  meeting,  and  this 
means  a deadly  conflict,  ’ ’ said  Andele  to  himself,  and  he 
felt  for  his  arms,  but  discovered  to  his  consternation 
that  he  had  failed  to  arm  himself  when  leaving  his  camp. 


Andele , o?-  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive. 


159 


He  dared  not  turn  his  back  upon  his  enemy;  he 
was  too  proud  for  that,  and  besides  there  was  more 
danger  in  running  in  this  instance  than  going  boldly 
forward.  He  resorted  to  strategy.  He  placed  his 
hands  as  in  position  for  grasping  a six  shooter, 
quickened  his  pace  forward,  and  watched  with  intense 
gaze  his  enemy’s  movements.  He  was  prepared  for 
the  worst,  but  as  Ton-kea-mo-tle  approached,  he  called 
out: 

“Andele,  friend,  we  have  been  enemies  a long 
time  and  I am  tired  of  it.  If  you  are  willing,  let  us 
drop  our  difficulty  and  be  friends . ’ ’ 

“ Ka-tai-ke  ’’  (good),  replied  Andele,  but  too  glad  of 
the  opportunity  to  settle  the  matter.  From  the  first 
he  had  not  cared  to  have  any  difficulty,  but  according 
to  Indian  custom  he  could  not  do  otherwise  and  be 
respected  by  the  people.  The  pressure  of  public  sen- 
timent forces  to  many  a foolish  act,  even  among  the 
civilized. 

He  had  now  vindicated  his  claim  to  courage  and 
exonerated  himself  from  the  charge  of  cowardice,  and 
he  did  not  care  to  push  the  matter  further.  And  hence 
he  made  friends  with  Ton-kea-mo-tle,  and  did  not 
mete  out  any  punishment  to  his  wicked  wife.  When 
he  was  first  brought  home  by  the  Kiowas  years  ago, 


160  Andele,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive. 

he  saw  old  Big  Bow  cut  off  his  wife’s  nose  and  tie  it 
around  a boy’s  neck. 

This  was  the  punishment  usually  inflicted  upon  a 
wife  for  infidelity  to  her  husband,  and  often  several 
fingers  were  also  cut  off,  and  sometimes  the  woman 
was  killed.  Asha,  an  old  Comanche  chief,  had  a wife 
to  elope  with  a young  man  who  was  nearer  her  own 
age.  Asha,  with  a few  friends,  sought  for  her  many 
moons,  but  in  vain,  till  one  day,  taking  a special 
friend,  he  started  westward  to  visit  the  Navajoes. 
After  many  days  he  reached  a Navajo  settlement,  and 
riding  up  to  a tepee,  to  his  surprise  and  gratification, 
he  found  the  young  Comanche  who  had  eloped  with 
his  wife. 

“ Where  is  my  wife ? ” he  asked.  Without  speak- 
ing a word,  the  young  man  pointed  to  the  tepee. 
Asha  entered. 

For  somewhile  neither  spoke,  but  at  last,  in  words 
of  mock  affection,  Asha  gave  vent  to  the  fiendish 
feelings  in  his  soul.  Without  meting  out  any  ven- 
geance upon  the  young  man,  he  took,  as  is  often  done 
in  such  cases,  such  property  belonging  to  him  as  he 
could  utilize.  Taking  his  wife,  he  and  his  friend 
started  for  home  at  once;  for  he  was  anxious  to  get 
where  he  would  feel  free  to  vent  his  vengeance  upon 


andele  and  his  wife,  ti-i-ti,  or  “white  sage.” 


Andcle,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive.  161 

the  woman  who  had  been  so  untrue  to  him.  One 
evening,  as  the  sun  went  down,  the  three  crossed  the 
Red  River  into  the  Comanche  country.  They  had 
traveled  many  days  and  were  worn  with  fatigue.  But 
now  they  were  on  their  own  territory  and  felt  rested. 
They  camped  for  the  night.  Next  morning,  after  the 
woman  had  prepared  the  breakfast  of  jerked  buffalo 
and  fat,  and  the  two  men  had  eaten  and  smoked  their 
cigarettes,  made  of  dried  sumac  leaves,  and  the  woman 
had  caught  the  horses  and  packed  everything  ready 
for  travel,  old  Asha  called  the  woman  before  him.  He 
began : 

“You  are  a bad  squaw,  fit  only  for  the  coyotes. 
We  are  now  back  in  our  own  country.  I will  give 
you  the  choice  between  two  things:  Have  your  nose 
cut  off,  or  be  killed.’’ 

The  woman  stood  there  in  the  yellow  sunlight  of 
that  October  morning,  a pitiable  object,  but  showing 
not  the  least  sign  of  emotion.  She  waited  for  some- 
time, but  at  last  with  steady  voice  spoke: 

“ If  I go  back  among  my  people  with  my  nose  cut  off, 
and  my  face  disfigured,  I shall  always  be  the  object  of 
scorn  and  ridicule.  I can  never  expect  anything  but 
cruelty  at  the  hands  of  him  who  bought  me  of  my 
father  for  a dozen  ponies  and  a few  buffalo  hides,  and 


162  Andele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

although  old  enough  to  be  my  grandfather,  forced  me, 
contrary  to  my  cries,  to  be  his  wife.  Besides,  my 
heart  is  back  yonder  with  the  young  man  in  the 
Navajoecamp,  and  I would  prefer  death  without  him, 
to  life  with  you.  You  can  kill  me.  L,et  it  be  quick.” 

So  brave  and  true  was  this  speech,  that  Asha  hesi- 
tated, but  as  he  had  given  her  the  choice,  he  was, 
according  to  Indian  custom,  bound  to  comply.  He 
turned  to  his  friend  and  requested  him  to  shoot  her. 

“No,”  said  the  friend,  ‘‘she  is  your  wife.  I have 
no  grievance  against  her.  Shoot  her  yourself.” 

Asha  turned  to  his  wife.  Somehow,  in  this  extreme 
hour,  she  had  grown  confident,  and  something  of  the 
light  of  her  girlhood  had  returned  to  her  face,  and  she 
stood  there,  her  searching  eyes  looking  large  upon 
Asha.  He  again  hesitated,  for  her  mute  gaze  spoke 
louder  than  she  could  speak  in  words.  But  he  had 
given  her  her  choice.  She  chose  death,  and  it  could 
not  be  reversed,  unless  she  asked  it.  She  would  not 
ask  it. 

‘‘Quit  looking  at  me,”  said  Asha,  “I  can  not 
shoot  you  while  your  eyes  are  upon  me;  turn  your 
back.  ’ ’ 

What  an  influence  to  deter,  or  to  encourage,  there 
is  in  the  human  gaze  at  times.  She  promptly  turned 


Afidele,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive.  163 

her  back,  and  in  an  instant  the  bow  string  tightened 
and  relaxed,  and  the  arrow  went  whizzing  through 
the  woman’s  heart.  The  men  hurriedly  mounted 
their  horses  and  rode  away,  leaving  the  body  to  be 
eaten  by  coyotes.  Such  is  the  Indian  custom. 

As  among  all  heathen  people,  marriage  among  the 
Kiowas  is  held  very  loosely.  Andele,  in  a short  time, 
married  another  woman,  but  in  a little  while  put  her 
away,  having  found  no  congeniality  on  account  of 
disparity  in  age,  she  being  rather  an  old  woman. 

It  is  often  the  case  that  the  chiefs  take  the  younger 
and  better-looking  women  and  leave  none  for  the 
young  men  except  old  squaws,  and  thus  it  is  not  in- 
frequent that  a young  man  may  be  seen  leading  around 
a woman  old  enough  for  his  mother. 

About  one  year  after  this,  he  fell  in  love  with  a 
pretty  young  Indian  woman,  Ti-i-ti,  or  “ White  Sage." 
She  was  tender  in  her  attention  to  him,  and  faithful  in 
her  affections,  and  they  lived  happily  together  till  her 
death. 

One  of  the  singular  customs  of  the  Indians  is  that 
a son-in-law  and  mother-in-law  are  not  allowed  to 
speak  directly  to  each  other,  but  must  communicate 
with  each  other  through  the  wife  and  daughter.  If  it 
becomes  absolutely  necessary  to  ask  a question,  and 


164  Andele , or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

the  wife  is  not  present,  the  son-in-law  can  turn  away 
his  head,  and  looking  in  another  direction,  ask  the 
question.  The  mother-in-law  can  answer  in  the  way. 
A sister-in-law  must  be  dealt  with  in  the  same  way. 
A son-in-law  may,  by  special  favors  to  his  father-in- 
law,  claim  the  next  younger  daughter,  and  by  contin- 
ued favors,  still  the  next,  and  on  till  he  has  every 
daughter  in  the  family.  Even  a boy  receiving  special 
favors  from  a man  may,  to  show  his  gratitude,  give 
away  his  sister,  and  the  family  will  feel  bound  by  the 
arrangement.  Often  a man  will  pet  a boy,  bestow 
presents  upon  him,  gain  his  favor,  and  then  ask  him 
for  his  sister. 

At  this  date  there  is  a twelve-year  old  boy,  Ernest 
Kickingbird,  in  Methvin  Institute,  who  has  a young 
sister.  Recently  an  old  Indian  visited  the  school, 
petted  Ernest,  and  asked  him  for  his  sister.  Ernest 
agreed  to  it,  but  when  the  man  went  to  Kickingbird 
himself,  and  claimed  the  girl,  he  was  flatly  refused. 
Kickingbird  had  learned  too  much  of  a better  way 
himself  to  allow  his  daughter  to  be  sacrificed  at  the 
mere  whim  or  choice  of  her  brother. 


CHAPTER  XX. 


Dog  Soldiers. 

It  will  be  of  interest  here  to  give  an  account  of  the 
Kiowa  Indian  soldiery. 

Even-  child,  both  male  and  female,  is  born  a Pho- 
li-yo-ye,  or  rabbit.  From  the  very  beginning  they  are 
taken  into  ‘ ‘ the  circle  ’ ’ and  initiated  ; and  as  soon  as 
they  first  begin  to  totter  on  their  little  feet  they  are 
taught  to  dance  in  the  circle  of  “rabbits.”  An  old 
man  is  put  in  charge  of  the  “rabbits,”  and  when  a 
big  feast  and  dance  is  to  be  held,  the  old  man  goes 
throughout  the  camps  calling  out:  “ Rabbits,  rabbits, 
get  ready  ; paint  your  faces  ; be  prompt ; come  to  the 
dance:  plenty  to  eat — grand  time!” 

And  very  soon,  from  every  direction,  they  come 
together  at  the  place  designated,  bor-s  and  girls  of  all 
sizes  and  ages,  from  the  least  to  those  just  blooming 
into  manhood  and  womanhood.  They  dance,  or  rather 
jump  around  in  a circle,  mimicing,  as  much  as  possible, 
the  motion  of  a rabbit,  and  keeping  time  with  the  two 
forefingers  of  each  hand,  lifted  like  rabbits’  feet  in 
running,  and  at  the  same  time,  making  a slight  noise 

165 


i66  Andele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 


like  the  rabbit.  The  only  music  accompanying  the 
performance  is  the  tom-tom.  Thus  the  young  people 
are  brought  up  and  kept  organized  for  the  more  trying 
life  of  a soldier  ; for  every  boy,  as  soon  as  old  enough, 
becomes  a soldier,  and  of  course,  every  girl  must 
needs  become  a soldier's  wife. 

There  are  five  orders  of  soldiers.  The  Ti-e-pa-ko, 
the  Tsai-e-ton-mo,  the  Ton-kon-ko,  the  Ah-tle-to-yo- 
ye,  and  the  Ko-e-Tsain-ko.  The  five  orders  make  up 
the  whole  army  of  “Dog  Soldiers.”  The  last-men- 
tioned band  is  composed  exclusively  of  those  who 
have  distinguished  themselves  in  war.  Any  number 
of  the  other  orders  may  become  a Ko-e-Tsain-ko  who 
has  achieved  some  notable  deed.  They  are  dis- 
tinguished in  dress  by  a red  sash  made  of  painted 
skins,  and  they  use  only  the  deer  hoof  rattle  in  all 
their  religious  performances,  instead  of  the  usual 
rattle-gourd. 

These  different  orders  of  soldiers  are  constantly 
watching  the  “ rabbits  ” as  they  grow  up,  and  as  soon 
as  one  of  them  is  old  enough  to  catch  for  the  army,  it 
is  a race  between  the  different  orders  to  catch  him  and 
add  him  to  their  ranks.  By  this  means  the  ranks  of 
the  Dog  Soldiers  are  kept  filled  by  captives  from  the 
'“rabbits.” 


Andele,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive.  167 

When  a 1 ‘ rabbit  ’ ’ is  captured  by  one  of  the  orders 
he  is  sent  to  capture  another  “rabbit,”  who  is  to  be 
his  file  man  and  close  companion  in  the  army.  The 
Ah-tle-to-yo-ye  captured  Gno-ah-tone. 

“Now  go,”  said  the  chief,  “and  select  another 
‘rabbit  ’ to  be  your  comrade  in  the  order.” 

Gno-ah-tone  went  at  once  while  it  was  not  yet  light 
in  search  of  Andele.  He  found  him  lying  asleep  in 
his  wigwam.  Gno-ah-tone  sat  down  beside  him  and 
awoke  him. 

“Andele,  you  and  I have  grown  to  manhood  now, 
and  can  no  longer  remain  among  the  ‘rabbits.’  The 
time  has  come  for  us  to  join  the  ranks  of  the  braves, 
who  go  to  war  for  scalps  and  plunder.  The  Ah-tle- 
to-yo-ye  have  put  their  hands  upon  me  and  sent  me  to 
select  another  ‘rabbit’  for  companion  in  their  ranks. 
I come  in  the  early  morning  to  claim  you  for  that  ser- 
vice and  make  you  my  friend  and  companion  for- 
ever.” 

While  he  was  talking  he  was  at  the  same  time  pre- 
paring the  deer  bone  pipe  for  use,  and  lighting  it,  he 
drew  a few  whiffs  and  puffed  the  smoke  upward  to  the 
sun,  praying  as  he  did  so.  Turning  then  to  Andele 
he  gave  him  the  pipe,  who  did  as  Gno-ah-tone  had 
done,  and  thus  he  became  an  Ah-tle-to-yo-ye,  as  boon 


1 68  Andele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

companion  to  Gno-ah-tone,  henceforth  ready  to -sacri- 
fice their  lives  one  for  the  other. 

It  is  a curious  use  the  Indian  makes  of  the  pipe. 
Usually  when  smoking  for  pleasure,  they  use  only  the 
cigarette  made  of  a mixture  of  sumac  leaves  and  to- 
bacco, enclosed  in  a green  leaf  covering,  plucked  from 
a shrub  or  tree  near  by.  But  they  use  pipes  in  wor- 
ship, or  when  a pledge  is  to  be  taken  or  given.  A 
man  who  wants  to  go  on  the  warpath  to  avenge  the 
blood  of  a friend  or  relative,  calls  his  friends  together, 
or  whomsoever  he  wishes  to  join  him,  and  after  mak- 
ing known  his  business  he  lights  his  pipe,  smokes  a 
few  whiffs,  and  prays  as  he  puffs  the  smoke  towards 
the  sun,  and  then  passes  it  to  the  next,  and  on  to  the 
next,  till  all  have  had  an  opportunity  to  smoke.  One 
may  decline  to  smoke  without  any  insult,  and  will  be 
exempt  from  going  on  the  warpath,  but  if  he  smokes 
he  dare  not  fail  or  refuse  to  go  lest  some  great  evil  be- 
fall him.  Thus  by  smoking  the  pipe,  he  pledges 
himself  to  whatever  is  proposed  on  that  occasion. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


Light  Dawning. 

Andele  had  for  years  lived  a veritable  Indian.  Yet, 
as  the  years  rolled  bjy  he  saw  the  wretchedness  of  the 
Indian  life  and  became  disgusted  with  it.  Neverthe- 
less some  of  the  Indian  ways  had  become  his  fixed 
habit,  and  any  effort  to  change  them  by  others  offended 
him. 

But  light  was  beginning  to  dawn  upon  him.  He 
could  see  as  far  as  he  had  been  brought  into  contact 
with  them,  the  strength  and  thrift  of  the  white  men, 
and  he  had  gone  at  one  time  with  an  Indian  wagon 
train  two  hundred  miles  awaPto  Caddo,  and  had  seen 
there  a railroad  train.  It  set  him  to  thinking  that 
there  must  be  something  better  for  him  than  wandering 
in  blanket  and  wild  robe  over  the  prairies  like  the  wild 
buffalo.  The  buffalo  were  fast  being  killed  out  by  the 
restless,  aggressive  white  man,  and  it  was  probable 
that  the  Indian  would  go  likewise,  unless  there  was  a 
change;  for  the  white  man  seemed  as  glad  to  kill  an 
Indian  as  a buffalo. 

One  day  he  heard  the  United  States  agent,  George 

169 


170  Andele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

Hunt,  talking  to  the  Indians  through  an  interpreter. 
He  said: 

“The  Great  Father  at  Washington  wants  all  your 
young  men  to  learn  how  to  wrork,  so  that  they  may 
make  money  and  have  homes  and  be  peaceable.’’ 

“I'll  do  it,”  said  Andres  to  himself.  “I  will  go 
at  once  and  ask  the  agent  for  work.  I’ll  change  my 
life  now.” 

That  same  day  he  took  an  interpreter  to  the  agent 
and  explained  what  he  wanted,  and  asked  for  work. 
He  was  put  into  the  government  blacksmith  shop  to 
learn  that  trade.  He  was  a wild  looking  spectacle, 
and  awkward  enough  in  a blacksmith  shop  with  all 
his  Indian  paraphernalia  on,  full  rigged  and  orna- 
mented. But  he  was  honest  and  earnest  in  his  pur- 
pose to  learn,  and  soon  began  to  show  progress. 

New  things  were  constantly  opening  to  him  as  he 
was  brought  more  directly  in  contact  with  the  whites, 
when  one  day  he  happened  to  be  in  the  store  of  an 
Indian  trader  where  a post  office  had  been  established. 
He  had  seen  people  trading  with  the  merchants,  receiv- 
ing goods  over  the  counter  for  which  they  paid  money, 
but  he  noticed  now  the  merchant  seemed  to  be  handing 
out  things  for  which  the  people  paid  nothing.  He 
could  not  understand  it,  and  his  curiosity  was  so  much 


Andcle,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  17 1 

excited,  that  he  asked  the  blacksmith,  under  whom  he 
worked,  what  it  meant.  The  blacksmith  answered 
that  the  people  were  getting  messages  from  their 
friends;  that  people  could  talk  on  paper  to  one  another 
although  they  were  a long  distance  apart.  He  said  no 
more,  but  it  awakened  a hope  and  set  him  to  thinking, 
and  thus  he  soliloquized: 

“ Long  years  ago,  I was  stolen  from  my  home. 
The  Apaches  stole  me.  Now,  as  I think  of  it,  it  all 
comes  fresh  to  my  memory.  The  Indians  call  me  An- 
dele,  but  my  name  is  Andres.  My  father,  who  was  he  ?” 

He  sat  straining  his  memory,  going  back,  back, 
over  the  wild  scenes  of  his  Indian  life,  through  the 
years  since  he  was  stolen  by  the  Mescaleros  in  the 
little  vega  where  he  tended  the  cows. 

‘ 1 Who  was  my  father  ? ' ' and  occasionally  memory 
would  almost  catch  back  the  long  forgotten  name,  but 
then  — 

“ Now  I have  it ! ” he  exclaimed.  “ I rememeber 
now,  it  is  Martinez.  Martinez,  Martinez;  yes,  that  is 
it,"  and  he  continued  to  pronounce  it,  lest  it  should 
slip  from  him  again. 

It  was  night,  and  he  went  to  his  bed  and  lay  down, 
but  could  not  sleep.  His  mind  was  full  of  thoughts 
of  home,  mother,  the  scenes  of  his  childhood.  Mem- 


172  Andele , or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

ories  long  since  dead  were  revived.  He  lay  there 
wondering,  and  the  more  he  thought,  the  more  wide 
awake  and  restless  he  became.  Hope  began  to  spring 
up  in  his  heart,  and  he  arose  and  made  his  way  at  that 
late  hour  to  the  sleeping  apartment  of  the  United 
States  physician,  Dr.  Hugh  Tobin.  He  rapped  at  the 
door,  when  Dr.  Tobin  bade  him  come  in;  for  although 
it  was  late,  he  had  not  yet  retired. 

“Why,  what  brings  you  here  at  this  late  hour, 
Andele?  Anybody  sick?”  asked  Dr.  Tobin,  in  the 
Comanche  dialect;  for  he  and  Andele  both  had  some 
knowledge  of  that  language. 

“I  am  come,”  replied  Andele,  “to  tell  you  some- 
thing that  disturbs  me  much,  and  keeps  me  from 
sleeping.  I am,  as  you  know,  a Mexican  captive.  I 
learned  to-day  that  people  may  communicate  with 
their  friends  on  paper  through  the  post  office.  I have 
been  thinking  it  may  be  possible  for  me  to  find  out 
my  people  from  whom  I was  stolen  long  years  ago 
when  I was  a small  child.  Do  you  think  I could?” 
and  he  looked  anxiously  and  intently  into  Dr.  Tobin's 
face  as  he  asked  the  question. 

‘ ‘ Do  you  remember  the  place  where  your  father 
lived,  and  do  you  remember  your  father’s  name?” 
asked  Dr.  Tobin 


Andele,  or  The  Mexico n -Kiowa  Captive.  173 

“I  have  been  lying  awake  on  my  bed,  thinking, 
thinking,  oh,  so  hard,  and  at  last  my  father’s  name 
has  come  to  me.  It  is  Martinez,  and  the  place  close  to 
our  home  was  Las  Vegas,  and  my  oldest  brother  was 
named  Dionicio.  I remember  him  well,  now.” 

“ Well,”  said  Dr.  Tobin,  ‘‘we  will  write  to  your 
brother,  because  if  your  father  was  an  old  man  at  the 
time  of  your  capture,  he  is  probably  dead  ere  this.” 

‘‘Will  you  please  write  now,”  asked  Andele,  as  his 
heart  beat  in  ever  increasing  interest. 

‘‘I  will,”  said  Dr.  Tobin,  and  he  turned  to  his 
desk  and  penned  the  following  brief  note: 

Kiowa  and  Comanche  U.  S.  Agency, 

Anadarko.  Ind.  Ter.,  Jan.  6.  1883. 

Dionicio  Martinez. 

Las  Vegas,  N.  M. 

Dear  Sir  : Did  you  have  a little  brother  stolen  by  the 
Indians  many  years  ago,  by  name  Andres?  The  Indians 
call  him  Andele.  If  so,  write  me  at  once.  He  is  here, 
and  we  think  can  be  identified  fully.  Respectfully, 

Hugh  Tobin, 

U.  S.  Physician. 

‘‘Now,”  said  Dr.  Tobin,  ‘‘this  letter  will  reach 
Las  Vegas  in  about  ten  days,  and  if  your  brother  is 
there,  he  will  get  it.  In  thirty  days  this  letter  will 
come  back  if  your  brother  don't  get  it.  Be  patient 
and  we  shall  hear.” 


174  Andele , or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive. 

Andele  went  back  to  his  own  bed,  but  he  could  not 
sleep.  /The  vague  memories  of  the  long  ago  came 
flooding  his  mind  and  heart,  growing  more  and  more 
distinct,  till  they  stood  before  him  as  but  the  happen- 
ings of  yesterday.  After  a month  had  elapsed,  the  letter 
came  back,  not  having  been  called  for  at  Las  Vegas. 
It  was  a sore  disappointment,  for  Andele  felt  confident 
that  it  would  reach  his  brother.  Dr.  Tobin  encour- 
aged him  to  hope,  and  he  wrote  the  second  letter,  but 
it,  too,  came  back  after  some  delay.  But  Andele 
seemed  more  determined  to  hear  from  his  people,  and 
he  continued  to  send  letters  for  nearly  two  years,  till 
one  day,  Dionicio  Martinez,  who  had  years  before 
moved  with  his  family  to  Trinidad,  happened  to  be  on 
a visit  to  his  mother  in  Las  Vegas,  and  received 
Andele ’s  letter. 

He  did  not  break  the  seal  of  the  letter  till  he 
reached  the  house  and  sat  down  near  his  mother.  He 
was  so  astonished  when  he  read  the  letter,  he  could 
scarcely  restrain  an  outcry;  but  fearing  lest  the  news 
should  too  deeply  affect  his  old  white-haired  mother, 
he,  with  a great  effort,  tried  to  conceal  his  emotions. 
The  quick  eye  of  the  mother  detected  something 
unusual,  and  she  asked: 

“ What  is  it,  my  son  ? Is  there  some  evil  news  in 


Andele , or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive.  175 

your  letter?  Is  some  one  sick?  Tell  me  at  once,  for 
I See  something  is  wrong. ' ’ 

“No,  mother,’’  said  Dionicio,  “no  evil  news,  but 
good  news.  I hardly  know  how  to  tell  you.  Will 
you  please  nerve  yourself  to  hear  something  that  will 
surprise  you  much  ? ' ’ 

“ Well,  tell  me  quick,  for  you  hold  me  in  suspense.’’ 
“Mother,  will  you  be  prepared  to  hear  that  our 
little  Andres,  whom  the  Indians  stole  long  years  ago, 
is  still  living  and  here  is  a letter  from  — ” 

But  before  he  could  finish  the  sentence  the  white- 
haired  mother  had  swooned  away,  and  was  falling 
from  her  chair.  It  was  an  affecting  scene,  and  here 
we  draw  the  curtain. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


Goes  Home  to  New  Mexico.  — Returns  after 
four  Years.  — Converted  and  Joins  the 
Methodist  Church.  — God’s  Providence  in 
it  ALL. 

After  correspondence  with  Dr.  Tobin  and  the 
United  States  Agent,  Hon.  George  Hunt,  at  Ana- 
darko,  and  Andele  was  thoroughly  identified,  Dionicio 
started  in  a hack  across  the  country  to  Anadarko  to 
take  Andele  home.  He  was  several  weeks  on  the 
road,  but  made  a successful  trip.  When  he  reached 
the  agency,  and  Andele  was  brought  before  him,  he 
looked  at  him  in  open-eyed  wonder.  Andele  was 
dressed  in  full  Indian  paraphernalia,  hair  long  and 
plaited,  and  rolled  in  beaver  skin;  face  painted,  bead- 
ed moccasins  and  fringed  buckskin  leggings  on  ; but 
in  spite  of  all  this  Indian  dress,  Dionicio  could  detect 
the  family  resemblance  in  the  features  of  Andele,  and 
after  closer  examination,  his  identification  was  com- 
plete. 

The  Indians  called  a council,  for  they  were  de- 
cidedly opposed  to  giving  Andele  up  unless  it  was 

176 


Andele , or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive.  177 

very  certain  that  his  real  brother  had  come  for  him. 
But  after  hearing  a full  account  of  his  capture  by  the 
marauding  Mescal eros,  and  knowing  that  it  was  from 
them  they  had  bought  him  long  years  ago,  they  were 
satisfied  and  willing  for  him  to  go,  but  insisting  that 
he  must  come  back  after  a visit  home. 

In  a fewr  days  he  started  with  his  brother  for  Las 
Vegas,  where  he  arrived  on  the  19th  day  of  March, 
1885,  having  been  just  a month  on  the  road. 

It  would  hardly  be  proper  to  intrude  upon  the 
privacy  of  the  home  and  undertake  to  describe  the 
meeting  that  took  place.  The  white-haired  mother, 
tottering  under  the  weight  of  years,  under  the  impulse 
of  a mother’s  love,  knew  him  as  he  entered  the  door, 
although  he  still  wore  some  of  the  Indian  parapher- 
nalia. She  could  hardly  endure  the  excess  of  joy  as 
she  hugged  him  to  her  heart,  and  called  him  her  own 
little  boy. 

Twenty  long  years  of  sorrowing,  in  slow  succes- 
sion had  dragged  their  weary  length  along.  Storm - 
swept  and  weather-beaten  the  old  earth  seemed  to  have 
grown  gray,  but  even  yet  she  had  been  spared  to  see 
her  little  boy . Andres  stood  before  her  a mature  man , 
but  to  her  he  was  still  the  ‘ ‘ Mi  Muchochito  ’ ’ (my  little 
boy)  of  the  long  years  ago,  and  thus  she  caressed 


178  Andele , or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

him  with  the  same  fondness  and  tenderness  as  in  the 
days  of  his  infancy. 

Andres  remained  with  his  people  till  the  summer 
of  1889,  and  then,  after  four  years,  in  which  he  com- 
pletely recovered  the  Spanish  language,  his  mother 
tongue,  he  returned  to  the  Indians.  His  wife,  “White 
Sage,’’  had  died  during  his  absence,  but  his  interests 
were  all  identified  with  the  Kiowas,  and  he  had  learn- 
ed to  love  them.  Besides,  God  had  a purpose  in  it  all, 
for  in  the  apparent  calamity  that  had  come  to  Andres 
in  his  capture,  God  was  overruling  it  all  in  preparing 
him  for  a life  that  should  glorify  him.  We  shall  see 
as  we  read  on . 

God  works  in  mysterious  ways,  and  often  His  plans 
are  many  years  in  execution. 

In  the  fall  of  1887,  at  the  session  of  the  Indian 
Mission  Conference,  held  in  Vinita,  Indian  Territory, 
Bishop  Galloway  presiding,  contrary  to  all  expectation 
and  to  all  apparent  wisdom,  the  author  was  sent, 
“ Missionary  to  the  Wild  Tribes.”  But  satisfied  that 
it  was  God’s  direction,  and  conscious  of  His  presence, 
he  went  with  a glad  heart  and  began  work  among 
them,  with  headquarters  at  Anadarko. 

Here  he  had  toiled  faithfully  for  two  years,  having 
built  in  the  meantime  a parsonage  with  a “church. 


Andele , or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  179 

annex,”  when  one  day  out  upon  his  rounds  among  the 
tepees,  he  discovered  standing  on  the  banks  of  the 
Washita,  near  the  old  government  commissary  build- 
ing, a Mexican  whom  he  had  not  before  seen.  Ap- 
proaching him,  he  said:  ‘‘You  are  a stranger  here. 
I have  not  seen  you  before.” 

‘‘No,”  replied  the  Mexican,  ‘‘I  am  no  stranger 
here.  I belong  here,  but  I have  been  away  for  four 
years  over  in  New  Mexico.” 

He  spoke  in  such  broken  English  that  it  was  diffi- 
cult to  understand  him. 

‘‘Well,  I am  a Methodist  preacher,  a missionary 
sent  here  by  the  church,  and  I want  to  know  all  the 
people,  and  help  them  where  I can.  What  is  your 
name?” 

“ My  name,”  he  replied,  ‘‘  is  Andres  Martinez,  but 
the  Indians  call  me  Andele,  and  everybody  calls  me 
by  my  Indian  name. 

‘ ‘ I have  a little  church  right  up  beyond  the  post- 
office,  and  will  be  glad  to  have  you  come  to  our  ser- 
vices tomorrow.” 

‘‘I  will  come,”  said  he. 

The  next  day,  Sunday,  the  little  church  was  well 
filled  with  blanket  Indians  of  the  numerous  tribes  that 
inhabit  both  sides  of  the  Washita,  and  a few  Mexi- 


180  Andele,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive. 

cans,  among  whom  was  Andele.  All  were  attentive 
listeners,  but  Andele  seemed  profoundly  interested. 
He  was  a constant  attendant  from  that  time  on. 

On  Sabbath  morning,  at  the  n o’clock  service,  a 
call  was  made  for  all  those  who  felt  that  they  were 
sinners,  and  wanted  right  then  to  give  themselves  to 
the  Lord,  and  be  saved,  to  come  to  the  altar.  Andele, 
sitting  in  the  back  part  of  the  house,  arose,  came  for- 
ward, and  knelt  at  the  altar.  Without  manifesting 
any  great  emotion,  he  professed  saving  faith  in  Christ, 
and  on  the  next  Sabbath  asked  for  church  member- 
ship. 

When  he  came  forward  to  be  received  into  the 
church  on  the  next  Sabbath,  however,  it  was  evident 
that  there  was  some  great  conflict  going  on  within.  It 
was  not  fully  understood  till  sometime  after,  he  told 
of  his  childhood  home,  his  capture  by  the  Mescal- 
eros,  his  transfer  to  the  Kiowas,  his  training  among 
them,  his  disappointment  in  the  Indian  religion,  and 
after  his  rescue  and  return  home,  his  continued  disap- 
pointment in  a mere  ritualistic  form  of  worship,  and 
finally,  his  deep  conviction  as  to  the  truth  of  God’s 
word  and  his  own  sinfulness  and  need,  as  he  heard  the 
author,  from  time  to  time,  read  and  explain  the  Bible; 
and  then,  amid,  but  in  spite  of,  much  embarrassment, 


Andele,  or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive.  i8r 

lest  lie  should  be  ridiculed,  he  determined  to  give  him- 
self up  to  God  in  Christ's  name,  and  in  the  act  realized 
His  power  to  save. 

I have  gone  over  it  all  in  this  little  volume  as  he 
has  related  it  from  the  beginning.  It  is  no  difficult 
matter  to  trace  the  Lord’s  loving  hand  in  it  all.  It  is 
the  overruling  of  His  providence  to  bring  good  out  of 
evil ; for  brought  up  by  the  stubborn  and  warlike 
Kiowas,  trained  in  trial,  inured  to  hardships,  skilled 
in  their  ways,  acquainted  with  their  superstitions,  a 
perfect  knowledge  of  their  language,  and  several  other 
Indian  dialects  as  well,  and  having  a fair  knowledge 
both  of  English  and  Spanish,  there  is  no  one  so  well 
qualified  under  sanctifying  grace  to  lead  the  Indians  to 
Christ.  He  is  by  every  tOicen  called  of  the  Lord  to 
carry  the  gospel  to  the  Indians. 

A few  months  after  his  conversion  and  reception 
into  the  church,  he  took  the  place  of  interpreter  and 
industrial  teacher  in  the  Methvin  Institute  near  Ana- 
darko,  Oklahoma  Territory,  in  which  capacity  he 
labored  long  and  well.  Owned  of  God  and  respected 
of  men,  he  goes  forward  without  wavering  and  without 
a vestige  of  superstition  clinging  to  him  to  the  work 
to  which  God  has,  by  His  providence,  called  him,  and 
for  which  He  has  so  well  qualified  him. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


A Civilized  Courtship  and  Christian  Marriage. 

This  chapter  must  close  this  little  volume.  Ti-i-ti, 
or  “White  Sage,”  had  now  been  dead  about  five 
years.  She  had  been  faithful  to  Andele,  but  while  he 
was  away  in  New  Mexico  she  took  sick  and  died. 

While  Andele  had  learned  the  ways  of  civilized 
life  and  had  caught  the  inspiration  of  a better  hope  by 
faith  in  Christ,  he  had  also,  under  this  new  order  of 
things,  learned  the  magic  of  successful  wooing  after 
the  approved  manner  of  Christian  refinement,  and 
having  actually  fallen  in  love,  went  forth  to  a conquest 
difficult  but  pleasing  to  his  enraptured  soul.  In 
marauding  expeditions  into  Texas  and  elsewhere,  he 
had  tried  the  conflict  of  war  and  bloodshed,  and  it 
was  exciting  in  the  extreme,  and  dangerous;  and  now, 
while  in  this  conflict  with  love,  choking  with  quick- 
ened pulsations  and  increased  heart  beats,  he  woke  to 
a realization  of  the  truth  of  the  poet’s  song: 

“War  and  love  are  fierce  compeers; 

War  sheds  blood  while  love  sheds  tears; 

War  breaks  heads  while  love  breaks  hearts; 

War  has  swords  while  love  has  darts.” 

182 


Andele,  or  The  Mexican- Kiowa  Captive.  183 

But  nothing  daunted,  he  pushed  his  conquest,  as 
we  shall  see,  to  a successful  ending. 

In  the  spring  of  1893,  Miss  Emma  McWhorter, 
daughter  of  Rev.  P.  T.  McWhorter,  of  Indian  Mission 
Conference,  took  the  place  of  matron  in  Methvin  Insti- 
tute, an  Indian  mission  school  belonging  to  the 
Woman’s  Board  of  the  M.  E.  Church,  South.  She  was 
a young  lady  of  substantial  Christian  character,  quiet  in 
manners  and  reserved,  and  conscientious  and  faithful  in 
discharge  of  duty.  She  served  her  place  well  in  the  In- 
stitute. The  Indian  children,  as  well  as  the  old  Indians, 
all  seemed  to  love  her,  and  grave  her  their  confidence. 

She  being  matron  and  Andele  industrial  teacher, 
they  were  thrown  together  occasionally,  each  day,  in 
looking  after  the  children,  especially  when  one  was 
sick,  as  each  had  to  keep  up  with  the  prescriptions 
and  aid  in  the  attendance  upon  the  sick. 

One  day,  stepping  unexpectedly  into  the  “sick 
room,’’  a scene  presented  itself  that  afforded  both  em- 
barrassment and  amusement.  A little  girl,  who  had 
been  too  short  a time  in  the  school  to  understand  much 
English,  was  lying  upon  the  bed,  sick  with  a fever  after 
a chill,  the  Matron  standing  at  one  side,  the  Industrial 
Teacher  at  the  other.  Evidently  something  unintelligi- 
ble to  the  Indian  girl  had  been  said,  but  full  of  absorb- 


184  A)idele , or  The  Mexican-Kiowa  Captive. 

ing  interest  to  the  Matron  and  Industrial  Teacher. 

As  I stepped  in,  the  Industrial  Teacher  looked  up 
with  a start,  and  startled  was  the  Matron.  The  live 
carnation  coursed  itself  around  the  cheeks  of  the 
one,  and  the  flush  of  confusion  covered  the  face  of  the 
other.  The  diagnosis  of  the  case  before  me,  not  of  the 
sick  child,  but  of  the  Industrial  Teacher  and  Matron, 
was  easy.  It  took  no  skilled  physician  to  read  the 
symptoms.  The  symptoms  of  heart  yearnings  are  more 
difficult  to  conceal  than  that  of  a fever-stricken  body. 

I stepped  on,  after  inquiry  after  the  sick  child,  say- 
ing to  myself,  “ Evidently  Andele  is  not  1 making  med- 
icine ’ now  after  the  fashion  of  the  Indians  preparing 
for  war  and  bloodshed,  but 

‘ ...  is  working  his  magic  wand 
For  wooing  a heart  and  winning  a hand.’” 

His  wooings  were  not  in  vain,  and  his  magic  did 
not  fail.  On  the  17th  of  October,  1893,  the  writer 
solemnized  the  rites  of  holy  wedlock  between  them, 
and  thus  the  Matron  and  Industrial  Teacher  went 
into  a life-partnership  and  became  one  ! ■ 

And  now,  in  closing,  I take  pleasure  in  introducing 
to  the  reader,  not  Andele , the  Kiowa , but  Mr.  Andres 
Martinez  and  his  estimable  wife,  who  will  grace  the 
following  page  as  a fit  closing  to  this  little  volume. 
[the  end.] 


MR.  AND  MRS.  ANDRES  MARTINEZ 


